


Came a Long Way to Find You

by Sereda



Series: Tales of the Bas Saarebas and Tal-Vashoth [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Dorian Pavus, Bottom Iron Bull, Bull says fuck a lot, Drinking, Iron Bull Feels, M/M, Magic in sex, Near non-consensual moment, Not using the watchword, Oral Sex, POV Iron Bull, Past relationship Iron Bull/Adaar, Protective Iron Bull, Rimming, Roleplay, Romance, Tal-Vashoth Iron Bull, Top Dorian Pavus, Top Iron Bull
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-07-25 16:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 27,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7539544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sereda/pseuds/Sereda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Iron Bull was used to people getting their fix and moving on. It was the way it'd always been. But with the 'vint things were different. He wanted more... and wanting was damn sure something he wasn't used to.  </p><p>The Iron Bull and Dorian Pavus work through their differences to find love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Night After Drinking

**Author's Note:**

> Just had to write another Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus story - I'm obsessed!
> 
> Sometimes I call Bull a Qunari, other times a Tal-Vashoth - it's just the way it is.

A loud bang jolted The Iron Bull awake. The door vibrated from being slammed into the wall. An inebriated ‘vint, stood in its place.

‘Fuck me till I forget my own name,’ the man demanded.

_Ah crap._

It was a damn tempting offer. Dorian Pavus was gorgeous. But the former Ben-Hassrath had made a successful career out of knowing which temptations to indulge and which to resist, and this was certainly the latter.

‘Make good on all your flirting and get your cock out,’ Dorian slurred in a sing-song way, before slamming the poor door shut and stumbling towards the bed. ‘Or are you full of shit?’

‘Not tonight, big guy,’ Bull croaked, rubbing his eye. He remembered then that he wasn’t wearing his eye patch and wondered if the mage would notice in the darkness.  

‘Why ever not?’ Dorian asked, voice suddenly shrill. ‘I thought you and the Inquisitor were done?’

Bull narrowed his gaze. Now there were two puzzles. One, how did this cheeky shit know about his liaison with Adaar? And two, what turmoil was brewing in that pretty head of his? Bull remembered he’d gone to Redcliffe on some personal business, but hadn’t probed further. Since being declared Tal-Vashoth, spying on ‘vints  was no longer a priority.

Bull was too tired for teasing so he went for honesty.

‘Dorian, you’re completely shit-faced. I’m pretty open-minded, but that’s not my style.’

‘Nonsense,’ Dorian scoffed, clambering onto the bed. ‘I know what I’m doing. Alcohol and I are esteemed acquaintances.’

‘I don’t doubt it,’ Bull chuckled, intercepting the mage’s grabby hands. ‘You can take more than most. Hell, even the Chargers struggle to keep up with you. But you wouldn’t be climbing, _literally_ -' Bull got out of bed as Dorian lunged forward. ‘-into my bed if you weren’t three sheets to the wind.’

The mage emitted a small gurgled sob. Bull bit the inside of his cheek, resisting a sudden, unwitting need to go to him. Finally, he settled for asking, ‘You OK?’ as he grabbed his eye patch and restored his beauty to its usual level of stunning.

‘No,’ Dorian’s voice was thick. ‘But clearly, it’s not something _you_ can help with.’

The Bull swallowed his retort. The man wanted to lose himself in sex and _vashedan_ if Bull couldn’t help with that then the Fade wasn’t filled with creepy shit. He clenched his fists and took a deep, slow breath. _Katoh._  

He was so busy focusing he hadn’t noticed Dorian trying to make an exit until he heard a thud and a clattering, followed by what sounded like his bottle of horn balm smashing on the floor. _Great._

‘Venhedis,’ Dorian snarled, stifling a whimper and hobbling towards the door. ‘Sssorry.’

Bull opened the door for him, suddenly glad to get rid of the blundering drunk. Yet when Dorian crossed the threshold, that old protective surge forced him to grab the man's arm. 

'Dorian, wait. Promise me you won’t go climbing in or on anyone else’s bed tonight.’

‘Why in Thedas _wouldn’t_ I?’ Dorian scowled, turning those bright, if bleary, grey eyes on him.

‘Cuz anyone wanting to fuck you in this state isn’t good for you, d’you hear me?’ Bull growled. It was harsher than he’d normally be, but hell, this was one stubborn, and drunk, ‘vint.

The frowning surprise on Dorian’s face would be funny in other circumstances. Bull repeated himself. ‘Dorian? Do you hear me?’

‘Yes, ya dumb ox, I hear you.’ 

‘So?’

‘Kaffas, I promise, alright?!’

Bull nodded and watched the man carefully take the steps back down to the Herald’s Rest, one hand gripping the bannister, the other fluttering around for balance. Bull closed his bedroom door, wishing the ‘vint _had_ come under better circumstances.

 

***

 

The Iron Bull sat on a bench watching Krem square up to Cullen in the training ring. _This oughta be good_. He glanced up to the tower window Dorian favoured as his own. It seemed the peacock was keeping a low profile today. Not that Bull sought him out beyond walking up to his usual spot at lunchtime and finding his chair empty. He suspected the man would be hungover, and probably mortified to bump into him after last night. Dorian hated losing control, perhaps as much as Bull. But then he could also be shameless when he wanted. Bull had heard him flirt outrageously with every one of their inner circle. Yet each time Bull had flirted with _him_ , Dorian acted as though he’d stepped in mabari shit. No matter. There was an ocean of bad blood between the ‘vints and Qunari. Doubtless the altus would have been raised with a deep distrust for Bull’s kind, and he couldn’t deny the reverse was true. 

‘Get up, Krem,’ he growled as the young man fell on his ass. ‘Eyes on your opponent, not on the pretty bard.’ He lifted his chin in Maryden's direction as she disappeared into the tavern. Blushing furiously, Krem snarled something nasty in Tevene.  

Dorian was tight with the Inquisitor, a Vashoth, so he couldn’t hold _complete_ disdain for his kind. Bull rubbed his eye socket under its patch and sighed. He couldn’t quite fathom the younger man out. And he preferred to get everyone pegged, especially a bas Saarebas. The prickly ‘vint blew hot and cold, some days vulnerable, others, impenetrable. He was blisteringly intelligent and a snooty little shit at times, complaining about the weather, and the food, and the accommodation and pretty much everything – the rumblings of someone used to the finer things in life. Yet, he was far from fragile. Bull had suspected Dorian’s muscles were purely decorative until he saw the man fight in close quarters, wielding staff (and fists) in a way that made the warrior dig his nails into his palms.

Krem managed to get a vicious jab under Cullen’s breastplate, winding him. Bull cheered.

The biggest surprise came following Bull’s expulsion from the Ben-Hassrath. Unlike Adaar, who went ballistic following the pathetic assassination attempt, Dorian plied him with drinks to celebrate ‘being a fellow outcast’. He kept up a wicked level of banter that should have stung, but Bull found it bone-deep soothing. It turned out they had things in common, from a strange liking of Fereldan ale to bare-faced glee in the battlefield.

Just then Zephram Adaar strode across the courtyard interrupting Bull’s musings. His horns curved backward, elegant, and he wore a simple tunic and cloth trousers that were tight in all the right places. Dorian had been right, they were done. They’d had some fun, but the Vashoth had ended their brief liaison when he’d got what he needed. Happened all the time. He hadn’t been weird about it so all was well.

It was late by the time Iron Bull retired to his room. He’d neglected to clear up the spilled horn balm and the distinctive musky smell greeted him at the door. After lighting a lamp, he grabbed a cloth and… the floor had already been scrubbed clean. Bull frowned, taking in his surroundings. Everything was where it should be… except for a new, larger bottle of horn balm on his dresser. A warmth bloomed in Bull’s chest. _Sneaky ‘vint_.


	2. Bas Saarebas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian gets under Bull's skin, and not in a good way.

The next day, Adaar took them on the road. It was sunny, if crisp, and the breath of both riders and steeds rose in steamy puffs around them. As they descended the mountain path from Skyhold, Dorian slowed his horse until he was level with Bull. Varric and Adaar were riding up ahead, out of earshot, but the mage kept his voice low.

‘I appreciate you not bringing up my… drunken tomfoolery,’ he said wryly. 

‘Is that all it was?’ Bull chuckled. 'Or have you been harbouring secret feelings for me all along, you sly dog?'

‘Wha- no!’ Dorian barked. _Too quick._ ‘I’d had a rough few days and wanted a tumble, and, well, you’d gone on about conquering me long enough...’ the man grumbled, seeming to run out steam.

‘You thought right, ‘vint.'

‘Well, thank you for not teasing me,’ Dorian paused, pulling on his cloak. ‘And… you were kind.’

Bull studied him. Those grey eyes so clear in the morning sun. For Dorian, kindness was in short supply outside of Tevinter, as well as acceptance and respect. The land of magisters had done nothing to ingratiate itself to outsiders, much like the land of the Qun. 

‘Hey, it’s nothing. I just want you to be relatively sober when we fuck.’

‘ _When_ we fuck?’ Dorian asked, incredulous.

‘Yep.’

'Why do you insist on pursuing... whatever this is?' Dorian waved his hand at Bull. 'I'm _clearly_ not interested.'

'You grew up in Tevinter. You like men. I'll bet you're not used to admitting what you really want...in that department.' Bull looked at Dorian squarely. The usual trod-in-dog-shit response was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the man looked downright anxious. Bull continued gently. 'So I persist because I _hope_ you're interested, deep down, and that when you admit it you'll come to me. Like you did the other night,' Bull finished, voice low.

Dorian frowned but said nothing.

'Of course, if you really want me to, I'll stop.'

Bull waited. The man worried his lip with his teeth but no such request came.

Well _shit._

Dorian huffed out a breath and spurred his horse on, leaving the warrior to wonder.

 

***

 

They travelled together for a week, making the Exalted Plains in good time. Encouraged, Bull continued flirting with the mage. Dorian deflected, vehemently, when they were within earshot of the others. But **once** , when they were at a safe distance, he laughed _-_ a breathy, husky sound that made Bull's belly hot. Perhaps... Bull wondered, what he'd said dislodged something. An exciting prospect. 

They found the final Venatori camp they'd been searching for and rushed to attack. Maybe it was the depressing vibe of the place, or perhaps they were just tired, but their impatience meant they failed to notice a rear group of 'vint mage bastards until they were sandwiched in. Thankfully, from a sensible vantage point, Dorian was able to pick off those furthest away with his lightning. 

Cleaving his axe through a scrawny chest, Bull noted how impressive it was that Dorian could control something so powerful. While the Venatori slumped to a dead heap, Bull watched Dorian pivot and...

A purple flash burst in his eyes.

Then the mother of all _dread_ crept into Bull's very soul. He’d felt the magic-induced fear before but this was far, _far_ worse. It was as if he was transported back to his worst memories, knowing what was going to happen, powerless to stop it. Seheron loomed largest. That fucked up mass seemed to land like a giant on his chest, crushing the breath from him. Bull stumbled forward, vision blurred, afraid to swing in case he hit Adaar.

‘Zeph! Where are you?’ he cried. When the returning shout appeased him, he swung with ferocious abandon for every fuck up in Seheron, for every piece of shit Fog Warrior and Tevinter asshole. The subsequent sounds of bones breaking and flesh being rendered was deeply gratifying.

Bull didn't know how much time had passed when he became vaguely aware of someone calling him.

‘Bull... kost, kost, Bull.’

Hearing Qunlat fairly executed outside his homeland was unusual, but it was the calm, confident tone that helped him surface. His vision cleared to reveal a bloody mass of bodies at his feet. Dorian was approaching slowly, carefully, hand outstretched. Bull took it, a grounding cool against his own, and stepped out of the Venatori mash he’d created.

‘Are you alright?’ Adaar called over, looking at Bull suspiciously as he threw a crumpled mage to the ground. Bull struggled to speak.

‘A very wicked fear spell I’m afraid,’ Dorian shouted over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on Bull. ‘One of mine.’

‘Bas Saarebas!’ It came out of Bull's mouth unbidden, something old and inbred. He snatched back his hand. Had Dorian hit him on purpose to _punish_ him? Thoughts began to swim in his mind, thoughts of danger, of escape.

‘Shit Sparkler!’ Varric guffawed. ‘That’s some unfriendly fire.’

Dorian ignored him and watched the warrior intently. Bull met his eyes, barely concealing his thoughts, but he listened as Dorian explained. It turned out that while Bull had been hacking through the scrawny Venatori, Dorian had been indicating his next move - which was to hit the enormous grunt advancing behind Bull. Embarrassingly, Bull had missed this because he'd been admiring Dorian’s spellcasting. The Qunari’s steely expression, often fixed as a force of habit, had reassured Dorian he’d understood.

_Ah nuts._

Bull dismissed the mage’s earnest apologies and accepted the dispel he cast over him - effectively removing all lingering creeping dread. Later, as his head cleared, he tackled his emotions one by one. Facing them, dealing with them, letting them go. He felt foolish, but more than that he was angry with himself that he’d jeopardised their fight. Then there was the lingering dark pain of Seheron, but all of that he could deal with. He just didn’t know how to deal with Dorian.

 

***

 

The next day they closed a rift and found an artefact. The Iron Bull went through the motions, cracking skulls and making jokes. Everyone carried on as normal, but Bull felt Dorian’s eyes on him all day. It wasn’t until the evening, when he was finishing his meal by the campfire, that the mage approached. Recognising his gait behind him, Bull stiffened despite himself and Dorian halted his advance. The warrior threw a, ‘Hey, ‘vint,’ over his shoulder as casually as he could.

‘Hey, _Qunari,_ ’ Dorian said softly. ‘Can I have a word?’

‘Er… sure, here? Or?’

Varric got up. ‘I’ll just go clean Bianca,’ he said with a smile, heading off to the far side of camp.

Dorian sat on a thick log facing him. ‘Here, I brought you a gift,’ he said, handing Bull an open bottle of Antivan brandy. His smile lifted his moustache rakishly on one side. The man waited until Bull took a long, gratifying swig, then encouraged him to take another. He looked mildly amused but not unkind. Bull braced himself.

‘I frightened you,’ Dorian stated, surprisingly devoid of mockery.

‘Not _you_ , Dorian,’ Bull protested. ‘Just… what you can do. Cleaving someone through the chest seems benign in comparison to that freaky shit.’

‘Understandable,’ Dorian said generously. ‘We mages do a lot of… _very_ freaky shit. And I know that under the Qun, the Saarebas is greatly feared.’

‘Yeah... but also respected,’ Bull interjected. When Dorian’s eyes narrowed in disbelief, Bull sighed. ‘It’s hard to explain. Having self-mastery is the highest virtue of the Qun and a Saarebas must be constantly vigilant to protect himself from possession so there’s this… _respect_ for his struggle.’ The former Qunari hung his head. He understood chaining and collaring mages was not a convincing way to show that respect.

‘Ah, I see,’ Dorian said finally. ‘You think we’ve got one foot in the Fade.’

Bull nodded.

‘Well, actually, yes, we do.’ Dorian laughed. It was a warm sound, completely at odds with the immense and terrifying power he wielded. 'Look, the world would be overrun if mages were constantly being possessed. Contrary to popular belief it's a rare occurrence, especially when the mage is skilled and in control. And, as you well know, I'm _exceptionally_ skilled. And, before you say it, when it comes to my magic I'm the epitome of control.'

Despite the years of training, despite being brought up to fear and distrust mages, and indeed 'vints, Dorian's words gave him comfort. Bull was either losing it, or seeing things more clearly, he chose to believe the latter. 

‘I’m so sorry I hit you,’ Dorian continued, now solemn. ‘I was careless. Forgive me.’

‘Shit, Dorian, there’s nothing to forgive. I was… distracted-’

‘All the more reason-'

‘-by how damn _hot_ you are.’

Dorian straightened, a wildly bemused look on his face. ‘You’re… serious!’ he exclaimed.

‘Yup.’ Bull knew he’d never hear the end of it, but he didn’t want Dorian to feel bad, even for a moment it seemed. Weird, but there it was.

‘Kaffas, Bull. How are we going to fight _any_ battles now you’ve realised that?’

They both laughed and Bull felt the tension leave his gut, a warm glow chasing away the shadows.


	3. Getting Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Bull and the 'vint get closer.

‘So does your fascination with me come from my being an unstable Saarebas?’ Dorian asked, securing his bed roll to his mount. ‘Do you fantasise about being my Arvaarad, screwing me with my mouth sewn shut?’

It felt like Dorian was only half-joking. This trip had opened up a weird but promising dialogue between the two of them. If The Iron Bull was still a Qunari, it would have been a boon for intelligence. As it was, it felt like it might become a boon for his cock if he played his cards right.

‘First, it's bas Saarebas on account of you being human.' He grinned when Dorian rolled his eyes. 'And sure, you being a mage is kinda fascinating. Much as I reckon my being a big _hulking_ Qunari is to you.’ Bull drawled, pleased with how Dorian's skin flushed. ‘But it's mostly because you're so pretty.’

‘You expect me to believe you’ve never had sex with a mage before? You with your _hordes_ of lovers?’

‘Well, yeah.’

Dorian snorted in disbelief. Bull sighed. These conversations usually ended up with him revealing more about himself. He looked around. Varric and Adaar had just finished packing up, out of earshot.

‘The way I was brought up I half expected demons to come bursting outta their chests at random. So... let's say I am... _was_ a little cautious.’

Dorian laughed. ‘Well, I suppose it's no more foolish than the Tevinter view of your lot being mindless savages, barely a step above _actual_ oxen. Well, the smell does tend to prove our theory.’

It was Bull's turn to laugh. ‘You love how I smell.’

‘Actually... I was surprised,’ Dorian said, not unkindly as he fiddled with his pack. ‘Your nightly bath at Skyhold certainly leaves you always smelling so goo-' the mage stopped himself, but it was too late.

Bull grinned. ‘Oh _really_?’

Dorian rolled his eyes again. ‘Compared to cattle, yes.’

‘So how’d you know about my baths? I tend to take ‘em pretty late.’ Bull didn't tell him it was largely therapeutic. That the salts and herbs helped keep his old injuries supple and from aching at night.

Dorian flushed again. ‘I just- I’m a night owl and I… oh _do_ stop grinning like a fool. I’m merely observant. What, you think you have the monopoly on that?’

Bull carried on grinning.

 

***

 

The journey back was easy, fun even. Dorian was practically flirting back. Well... he wasn't rebuking Bull at every turn. Although 'bad' jokes still got short shrift.

It wasn't until a few nights after their return to Skyhold that Bull found himself alone with the man again. They’d just finished a game of Wicked Grace, the players dispersing, with the exception of Sera snoring under the tavern table. Bull was pleasantly buzzed by the drink. Dorian’s cheeks were rosy with wine as he swept his winnings into his purse.

‘I _know_ you know I was cheating,’ Dorian stated, pulling the drawstring tightly. ‘Why didn’t you rumble me?’

‘Ah what, and waste the chance of having something over you?’ Iron Bull laughed softly. ‘Besides, you surprised me.’

The ‘vint cocked a curious brow. ‘How so?’

‘You didn’t use magic.’

Now he scowled. ‘And? What’s that supposed to mean?’

Bull had meant it as a compliment. Someone as powerful as Dorian could probably manipulate a pack of cards easily enough. Thinking about that sent a thrill through Bull's gut. He straightened. ‘Well, cheating with magic seems more unfair than regular cheating. Puts you on a playing field above those without the sparks.’

The mage seemed to relax a little, but the scowl remained. ‘It seems that no matter where I go I’m judged to be a complete bastard. Either I’m a wicked _Tevinter_ or an evil _Saarebas_ , sorry, BAS sodding Saarebas, or...' Dorian spluttered, 'A lascivious predator unable to slake my lust for man flesh…’

'Ha!' It burst out before Bull had a chance to stop it. The ‘vint had a point, but he was so theatrical with it, and _man flesh,_ c’mon. He clapped his hand over his mouth, but the more he tried to quiet the rumble, the more it bubbled up until it spilled over and he was clutching his sides, guffawing. Dorian glared at him. At first. Then catching Bull's mirth he started to chuckle, then full-on belly laugh.     

After a while, Bull wiped his eyes and straightened. Dorian sounded so warm and sweet when he laughed like that. And he was so damn handsome, dark hair flopping over his forehead now, cheeks rosy. Bull didn’t care to check his expression as the mage met his eye. Dorian regarded him curiously for a moment, then he tilted his chin up towards the staircase heading to Bull’s bedroom. The Tal-Vashoth chewed the inside of his cheek considering. The man wasn’t drunk. And he was fucking hot. Bull raised the corner of his mouth into a seductive smile he knew worked on most people, stood slowly and made his way up the stairs. Halfway up, he heard the ‘vint’s footsteps behind.

 

***

 

They launched at each other the moment they were through the door. Dorian jumping into Bull’s arms at the same time Bull reached to grab Dorian's thighs to lift him. Their mouths crashed together. Bull felt a thrill from horn to toe when he captured Dorian's tongue, tasting warmth and wine. It was like drinking after days of being parched. Somehow through the hot press of the man's lips, it dawned on him. Since joining the Inquisition, shit, possibly all his _life_ , he hadn't wanted someone this much. He had to keep it together. He’d feed himself to the nearest dragon if being Tal-Vashoth changed his legendary self-control. It was a gift to others, but it was also necessary living amongst other races. Beneath his largely nonchalant demeanour he exercised near-constant vigilance. That’s why, when he ‘slammed’ Dorian’s back into the door, it was tempered despite the fire in his belly.

After a few moments, Bull pulled back, sucking on Dorian’s lower lip, so soft he _had_ to nip it. Dorian groaned and returned the sentiment by digging his nails into Bull’s biceps. Then the mage braced himself on Bull’s shoulders, straightening his arms as he lifted himself a little higher and pushed his pelvis forward. It was the Qunari’s turn to groan.  

Looking up into Dorian’s eyes, he grinned and asked, ‘So what does this Tevinter bas Saarebas _predator_ want?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end it there! I have some work to do but I have a draft of the next chapter so it won't take long. Thanks so much for your comments and kudos so far - it really helps! :()


	4. Qunari, Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Bull and Dorian get it on...
> 
> Carries on directly from the last sentence of the last chapter.

Iron Bull waited, trying to make out Dorian’s expression in the semi-darkness.

‘I want-  _kaffas_ , ’ Dorian hissed.

‘You OK?’

‘It’s just… it’s been a while.’

‘Forgot where to put it?’ Bull joked.

Dorian laughed a little nervously and dug his nails into Bull’s shoulders, pinned as he was against the door, legs wrapped around the larger man’s waist.

‘Oh shut up. I haven’t had a decent shag since _before_ I joined the Inquisition. I want so many things I don’t know where to begin.’  

‘C’mon ‘vint,’ Bull said slowly, grinning. ‘There’s gotta be  _something_  you’ve been hankering for from this big Qunari.’  He said the last words slowly, deliberately.

‘Actually, there is one thing that springs to mind.’ There was a little quiver of excitement in Dorian's voice as he reached up and caressed the tip of a horn. Bull smiled and listened to Dorian inhale and say quietly, 'I want to hold onto these while you suck my cock.’ 

The man's words burned through Bull like he'd downed a shot. Growling, he squeezed Dorian and carried him over to the bed.

‘ _Knew_  you’d been fantasising about me.’

Dorian rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t ruin it you big oaf,’ he huffed as he slid down Bull's body to the mattress. The man kicked off his boots and lay back, letting his thighs fall open. ‘Are you going to undress me, or do I have to do everything?’

Dorian was his usual cocky self, but Bull could detect a little trepidation under the words so he kept his movements slow and steady. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he leant forward so he was on all fours, arms either side of Dorian’s hips.

‘There are a lot of buckles here, sweetheart. You wanna undo them, or would you like me to rip 'em off?’

It surprised Bull that Dorian hesitated. He’d assumed the peacock would baulk at the suggestion.

‘I’ll do it,’ the man sighed. ‘As much as the fantasy appeals, these are some of my nicest garments and I’d rather not perform the walk of shame afterwards.’

He made quick work of the fancy fasteners, starting with his tunic. Bull watched the show. He’d seen Dorian’s bare chest before but now was close enough to smell his skin, all warm and gorgeous, a hint of spicy musk with a velvety sweet undertone. As the man pulled the top over his head, Bull couldn't resist gently mouthing a trail across a well-defined pectoral to a cute brown nipple. So warm... and the skin like silk compared to Bull's own. The warrior pulled back, watching Dorian yank the fabric off impatiently, mussing up his hair, eyes bright.

Bull needed better light, it was bad enough having one eye but having one eye in semi-darkness was the pits. And he needed to see the 'vint in all his glory.

‘We need more light, bas Saarebas.'

Dorian barely moved two fingers and three candles sparked alight. It was nowhere near as impressive as the mage’s combat magic, but at that moment Bull thought it was pretty fucking amazing.

Leaning back on his haunches, Bull watched. Dorian's slender fingers undid his buckles, pulled down those snug-fitting trousers. When he went to the waistband of his soft dark blue smalls, Bull batted him away playfully and peeled them down like he was slowly opening a present. He delighted in seeing the man's cock spring free, already rock hard. Bull pulled the fabric down his legs and tossed it over his shoulder. 

And there was Dorian.

Naked.

Hot fucking…  _damn_.

The Bull growled. The man was smooth and bronzed and toned to perfection. Surprisingly, not completely hairless. He clearly waxed that chest so he could show off his pecs, but there was a trail of dark hair on his lower abdomen leading to some silky curls and a gorgeous smooth brown cock which twitched under Bull's gaze. Finally, he looked at Dorian’s face which was smug as shit. The 'vint knew full well how good he looked. Well, Dorian had beauty, but Bull had strength - and he knew how to use it in the bedroom. Pinning the smaller man's hips against the mattress with his two big hands, Bull was rewarded with a lust-filled groan. Holding firm, he licked Dorian's cock from balls to glistening tip in one long, languorous sweep. Dorian's breath catching in his throat triggered a flicker of impatience in Bull's belly. He backed off the bed, grabbed hold of Dorian’s legs and pulled him to the edge of the mattress.

‘What are you doing?’ Dorian croaked, sitting up. Pupils so wide there was only a sliver of grey around them. 

‘You wanted to hold onto these didn’t you?’ Bull smirked, tilting his head.  He grabbed a blanket folded on a chair, rolled it up and placed it on the floor. Then he sank to his knees, between the mage’s legs and bowed forward, waiting. Tentative fingers began to caress the rough bone, pulling a little in their exploration.

‘Do you feel anything?’ Dorian murmured quietly, fascinated.

‘A little pressure when you pull and running your nails on the surface makes it kinda vibrate.’ He paused, ‘It’s hard to explain to a non-horned guy. But it doesn’t hurt, even if you pull hard.’

‘What about here where they grow out of your head,’ Dorian stroked a thumb across the base and Bull gave a low growl of satisfaction. They both chuckled.

‘I see,’ Dorian drawled, before pulling Bull towards him for slow, hot kiss. After a few gorgeous moments, Dorian steered Bull back again and, _oh yeah_ , he was getting the hang of it… pulled him downwards.

Bull was salivating well before he wrapped his lips around the head of Dorian’s cock, sinking all the way down till his nose was buried in curls. The mage gasped, tightening his grip on Bull’s horns. Flames licked at Bull’s own belly, but he kept his breath steady. Dorian smelled amazing and Bull didn’t want to get him off too soon. He wanted the perfect altus to come apart around his mouth.

Bull explored with his tongue, all the while holding the man in place with his hands. Fingers sometimes digging in, sometimes rubbing small circles around the hip bones. He varied the pressure of his tongue and mouth from tortuously light and fluttering to damn hard, listening to the little hitches in his lover’s breath and the moans of approval, or shock, to gauge what was working: seemingly **all** of it. 

Sweeping his fingers through a nearby salve, Bull pulled Dorian to perch right on the edge of the bed so he could massage his perineum. Slowly, he worked his way to Dorian's sweet puckered hole and pushed small circles around it. Dorian kept his hands on Bull’s horns, sometimes steering a little this way or that, occasionally a hot palm would press onto Bull’s scalp and push a little. Even though he was assuredly coming apart, Dorian remembered to stroke at the base of each horn every now and then.

The man’s hips were rocking upwards now that Bull had stopped holding them down, nudging himself between the Qunari’s lips, not roughly, but, Bull noted with deep pleasure, not entirely consciously.

The 'vint was panting, murmuring things in Tevene, twisting his fingers around the base of Bull’s horns. Bull pushed a finger into him as he swallowed his cock down. Dorian gave a soft cry, trembling under his firm grasp as Bull crooked his finger. When Dorian breathed his encouragement, a whispered _more_ , a second finger joined the first and after a whimpered _please_ Bull pulled the man towards his orgasm, pressing inwards with his fingers while making filthy wet noises with his mouth and tongue.

‘Ah… ah shit, Bull,  _Bull_ ,’ Dorian cried as he tapped his lover’s shoulders with a panicked hand. The Qunari growled softly to convey he’d heard and _that_  is what took the mage over the edge, hips stuttering up with a cry, cock pulsing against Bull’s tongue. Bull felt the burn in his throat and moved back so he could get a little taste. It wasn’t Tevinter brandy but it was filthily good.

The Qunari licked around Dorian’s cock for a few moments before pulling off slowly, slowly. The mage flopped back onto the bed with a husky laugh.

‘Fuck. That was… _mmmmmmmm._ ’ He closed his eyes and was practically purring. ‘Give me a minute and we’ll talk about what  _you_  want next.’

It was a small thing. Most probably wouldn’t notice. But it stopped Bull mid-rise from his kneeling position. Luckily, Dorian’s eyes were still closed, his chest rising and falling peacefully. Someone must have asked The Iron Bull what he wanted in the past, surely.The fact it sounded so alien was simply because it had been a while. You didn’t get asked what you wanted under the Qun, but after... Bull’s brain went blank. Dorian opened his eyes, searching Bull’s face for a moment, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth.

‘So?’ he asked.

Such a small thing. 

A hard knock at the door made them both start.

‘Bull?’

It was Adaar. He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. ‘We’ve got undead roaming over Haven. And… Sera informs me our resident necromancer is with you.’ Dorian had grabbed the bed sheets around him protectively but was on his knees alert. ‘Yes, I’m in here,’ he called back, a mix of irritation and worry tremored in his voice. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’

‘I’ll wait,’ Adaar called back.

‘Venhedis,’ Dorian muttered under his breath, tugging on his trousers. ‘Do you think he knows we… Well, this is a _fine_ time for the dead to rise. I’m not sure why this warrants the Inquisitor’s attention or even mine for that matter. There are dozens of mages lurking about Skyhold.’

Bull hadn’t moved from the edge of the bed. A wave of irritation fixed his jaw shut. He’d waited a long time to get Dorian into bed and he’d wanted to make the most of it. A Qunari was a fantasy for most non-Qunari folk and that usually meant once their curiosity was sated it was over. It didn’t really bother him, but he just wasn’t done here.

At the very least he could go with them to Haven.

Bull broke his inertia, grabbed his axe and, checking Dorian was dressed, yanked the door open. Adaar was standing a foot away, arms crossed. Looked like he was trying to hide the fact he was nervous. 

‘Hey boss,’ Bull began, light, neutral. Adaar broke it off with him after all and they’d been fine. No reason to make this weird.

‘Hey Iron Bull,’ he mirrored the same tone, but it was forced. Adaar’s gaze dropped to the axe at Bull’s feet and frowned. ‘I don’t need you this time. I’m taking Cole and Cassandra, should be enough.’

Bull shrugged, face blank. Whatever was going on here, he didn't want to add to it. He leaned back to let the mage past. Adaar nodded and disappeared down the stairs. Dorian followed quickly and didn't look back. Bull squashed the disappointment before it had a chance to spread and slammed his door shut.


	5. The Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian returns from Haven and Bull makes a big mistake.

The Iron Bull hadn’t seen Dorian or Adaar for three days. With no way to find out what was going on in either head, he’d pushed all thoughts of lovers, former or recent, out of his own mind. That largely involved a lot of sparring, with the Chargers, with the soldiers, with new recruits and with the practise dummies. It also included a fair amount of drinking and giving special attention to his armour and weapons.

Bull was running out of things to do, his weaponry was gleaming and no one else wanted to spar with him, when,  _at fucking last_ , the horn was blown. Adaar had once complained it wasn’t necessary, but Bull decided right then that the old tradition of announcing the Inquisitor was a damn fine idea.

Bull watched from the battlements as the small team approached the mountains. He could just make out Dorian in his grey cloak, hunched over his horse's neck, hood pulled up over his head to ward off the cold. The tendrils of memory Bull had been holding back began to unfurl unbidden: Dorian, naked on his bed; the feel of his fingers curled around the base of Bull’s horns; the smell of his skin; the feel of his cock in Bull’s mouth. Then… Adaar knocking on the door. Dorian's back disappearing down the stairs. An empty room and frustration. Rubbing his knuckles along the stone wall, Iron Bull decided to join the Chargers in the Herald’s Rest and wait.  

 

***

 

Fortunately he didn't need to wait long. Dorian entered the tavern soon after, alone. By the looks of things he hadn’t changed from his travelling clothes, nor even preened his hair, but he was kinda perky, bright-eyed, and gorgeous as always. Bull felt strangely whole, and certainly **not** strange was his desire to see the man naked again.

Dorian approached their table, beaming at Bull. ‘May I join you?’

‘Sure, bas Saarebas,’ Bull joked, nodding to the empty chair beside him.

Dorian rolled his eyes, but carried on grinning. He bought a round for the table, played cards, politely listened to several Chargers stories and even told one of his own. During his animated re-telling, Bull felt Dorian’s leg against his and the contact went straight to his groin. The mage tilted his head a little towards him and Bull wondered if he’d done it on purpose. The idea got him a little hot and thinking about throwing the man over his shoulder and taking him upstairs. 

After a while, the others started a drinking game. When Dorian declined, Bull took the opportunity to talk to him alone. He asked how Haven went – well, apparently - then the crux of the matter: why Dorian and the Inquisitor had to go. It had been three long days since the 'vint was whisked away from him, moments before naked and wanton. He needed to know. 

Dorian looked down at his glass. Lowering his voice, he said, ‘Er…  Zephram wanted to get me alone, to talk.’

‘He could’ve done that anytime,’ Bull said, frowning. 

‘True, but I think he panicked when he knew I was with you.’

‘What?’

‘He wanted to get me away from you… and then he propositioned me.’

‘What?’ Bull repeated, blinking in response to an uncomfortable flutter in his gut.

‘Apparently, he’s had his eye on me for some time.’

Zeph certainly hadn’t made that obvious. And he’d heard Bull flirt with the mage often enough. Bull would’ve stopped if he’d known. _Wouldn’t he?_

‘Nice,’ Bull said, forcing his expression blank.

‘Is that all you have to say on the matter?’ Dorian asked, looking up now. He seemed anxious. Despite searing evidence to the contrary happening in his gut, Bull didn’t want the mage to think he was jealous of him or Adaar. 

‘Yeah… what do you want me to say, 'vint?' He shrugged. 'He’s good in bed, he likes fine wines… I’m happy for you, if that’s what you want.’

‘So… you’re not, oh I don’t know, at all _bothered_  that he and I could get it on?’

‘Nah,’ Bull said as dismissively as he could. ‘Why would I be?’

Dorian snorted into his wine glass, 'Clearly no reason whatsoever,' he said bitterly, his mood drastically changed.

Bull's sinuses felt pinched, burning. He'd played this wrong somewhere. 

Dorian downed his wine. ‘Fine,’ he said suddenly, rising. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I suppose I should go and see about an Inquisitor.’ And then he swept out of the tavern.

Bull took a shaky breath, feeling an urgent desire to grab something and smash it. He looked up and saw Krem scowling at him.

‘What’s up your ass?’ Bull asked gruffly.

The young ‘vint leaned forward. ‘Pavus likes you. You like him. Why’d you make out you’re not interested?’

Bull frowned. ‘I flirt with everyone Krem, Dorian’s nothing special.’ _Of course_ he was. ‘And besides, he wants Adaar.’ Bull thought of all the times Dorian had gone off to share a bottle in the Inquisitor’s chambers. Of how Adaar always chose Dorian as his mage. And how fucking handsome Adaar was, more aesthetically pleasing compared to The Iron Bull, if not quite as muscular.

‘You’re a big idiot, you know that?’

‘Watch it, Krem,’ Bull growled softly.

The young man glanced around the table, no one was paying them attention, arm wrestling, joking, downing drinks. ‘I’ve travelled with you for a while now, right? I’m no Ben-Hassrath but I reckon I’ve come to know you a little bit. Like how you’re actually pretty nervous around mages…’

‘Hey!’ Bull frowned.

‘You keep your hand close to your axe, if you’re wearing it. And if not, you always keep a few paces distance. Either way, you straighten right up so you look all big and menacing.’

‘I _am_ all big and menacing,’ Bull growled louder.

‘Don’t worry, big guy, only I see it because I’ve been around you long enough, watched you closely so I can… copy you, you know, with leading the Chargers and stuff.’ Krem bowed his head a little shy, fingering his tankard. It warmed Bull a little. ‘Anyway, I see the way you are with the posh ‘vint. You never demonstrated any _‘Shit! There’s a mage’_ behaviour around him. Now I know something happened in the Exalted Plains, but there’s bound to be a few hurdles to get over with you two.’

‘Krem, I don't-'

‘You can deny it all you like, Chief. The fact is, you like him. And he likes you. He probably prefers you over Adaar, but if he thinks that door is _closed_ …’ Krem shrugged and waved his hand.

Bull leaned back in his chair. He’d done all of the chasing with Dorian, hadn’t he? Then he remembered that it was Dorian who'd crashed into his room drunk, Dorian who nodded to his room a few days ago, _Dorian_ who came, without changing his clothes, to drink with him and the boys… Bull's chest suddenly felt tight. He rose abruptly, jostling the table before striding out of the tavern, leaving the Chargers' grumbles and their spilt drinks behind.

 

***

 

Bull began to question the wisdom of what he was doing after he’d already knocked on Adaar’s door. He waited. Knocked again, harder. Nothing. He tried the door and it was locked. Either the Inquisitor didn’t want to be disturbed or no one was home.

He decided to head to Dorian’s room. Perhaps the ‘vint had gone there to freshen up. Iron Bull wanted… he didn’t know what. Wanting was a new thing and he didn’t know how he felt about it. All he knew was that he wanted Dorian. In his bed certainly. Beyond that... well, that was for another day.

At Dorian’s door, Bull brought his fist up to knock but aborted the movement when he heard Adaar’s low voice inside. The words were muffled, but the tone was... sultry. Then Dorian’s laugh in response, gorgeous and a little nervous, like it was in Bull’s room those few nights ago. Bull took a deep breath, thought about knocking and then realised it had gone quiet. His stomach dropped. Damn. Fucking… shitting… damn.

Bull berated himself for letting Dorian slip through his fingers, then berated himself for wanting him in the first place. He turned around and left, making haste so he wouldn’t hear anything worse than that silence.


	6. Can't Shake You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull is rarely jealous, but there it is. Burying himself in flesh and fighting, the Tal-Vashoth tries his best to forget...

Iron Bull awoke covered in warm bodies. To take his mind off the surprising twisting in his gut, he'd taken three women to bed last night. It had largely failed. This past year he’d seen both Adaar and Dorian naked so his mind easily offered scenes of the beautiful duo sweaty and rutting. It would have been hot under different circumstances and it threw the warrior how strongly he felt about this whole sorry endeavour.

Up far too early, Bull rolled out of bed and took his axe to the training area. A good walloping would surely use up the remaining tension.

The sight of Adaar there already, talking to the commander at the foot of the steps, didn't help. Despite himself, Bull wondered if he’d left Dorian in bed naked, tangled in the bed sheets. His insides squirmed with in response. If he couldn’t get rid of this by trashing a dummy, he’d have to ask Cassandra to wallop it out of him.

Around noon, after a solid pounding of various objects and some willing challengers, hunger drove Bull to the Great Hall for a hearty lunch. A few paces through the doors, he noticed Dorian talking with Krem. The mage was sitting facing the door and when he looked at Bull an array of emotions slid across his beautiful features, like clouds chased by high wind. It was too fast for the Qunari to catch at this distance, but as he approached the ‘vint rose and left, exiting through the door to Solas's chamber. As the warrior watched Dorian walk away, the want surfaced again... He shoved it back down and addressed his second’s back.

‘Cremisius,’ he rumbled low.

‘Now I know I’m in trouble,’ Krem muttered, turning his head.

Bull took the chair Dorian just vacated. Ignoring how warm it was, he fixed the man with his one eye.

‘What?’ Krem asked, the picture of innocence.

Bull stared, unmoved.

‘We were just catching up on… events,’ the man finally offered. ‘You can stare all you like, a confidence is a confidence.’

‘Just when did you two become such great pals?’

‘Dunno what you mean, we’ve always been great pals,’ Krem said, smiling into his coffee. ‘We have plenty of shared interests.’

Bull narrowed his eye but dropped it. He really didn't want to hear the details. Despite his sudden lack of appetite, he was going to force down some sustenance. Wouldn’t do to have him swooning when he fought the new recruits later.

 

***

 

Darkness fell. Bull had fought his way through most of the day and needed a drink. Varric invited him to play Wicked Grace and he heartily agreed, knowing the good whisky usually came with it. However, when he jogged up to the second floor of the Herald's Rest he saw an unwelcome sight: Adaar and Dorian sitting side by side like two lovebirds. And the only empty space was directly opposite.

The warrior didn’t realise he was clutching the bannister until he heard it start to crack. Releasing his grip, he took a fortifying breath. What in the Void was wrong with him? He liked both men and usually didn't give a damn who fucked who. This was all wrong. Maybe this was the madness the Qun warned about.

Bull had half a mind to turn around and go but the other half gave a winning grin and strode over. If he had to be Hissrad a few times, then so be it. No point making people uncomfortable.

It worked for a while. Bull told a few jokes, teased Cullen, all the while ignoring the way Dorian kept leaning against Adaar and laughing huskily when the Vashoth muttered things in his ear. At one point, Dorian laughed aloud, a gorgeous sound, and Bull couldn't resist a look. The mage was staring right at him and Bull could have sworn the man was rubbing it in. Luckily, Hissrad's mask was in place.

A few moments later, it nearly slid right off when Sera tripped and Bull let go of his hand to catch her. As he bent to pick the cards up from the floor he saw that Adaar had one big hand on Dorian’s upper thigh, _dangerously_ high. In his haste to move away, Bull nearly upended the table, banging the back of his head.

‘Steady there, Bull,’ laughed Adaar. ‘A big brute like you shouldn’t get under tables.’

Bull frowned, rubbing his skull. He caught Dorian’s look of concern, but the 'vint's pity irked him. He made a joke about his head being harder than rock and played it out for a few minutes before he threw his cards on the table.

‘Ah I’m tired, Sera here’s my hand, have fun.’

He avoided looking at Adaar or Dorian as he rose and went downstairs to find a few more willing bed mates. A short while later he came back up the stairs with a buxom beauty on each arm, a cliché but there it was. 

‘Not so tired after all, eh Tiny?’ Varric called out after him.

Iron Bull chuckled without looking over. The laughter came out warm and jovial at least.

 

***

 

Another day passed and Bull was exhausted. He’d barely sat down for more than a few minutes at a time, and aside from the night long fuck-fest he’d fought whoever he could. He hadn't really hurt anyone, holding back as he always did. But Cullen had a few choice words to say after a recruit went flying through the perimeter fence of the training ring. 

The warrior needed a long soak before bed but when he got to his room he found he'd run out of herbs. Eyeing the bed, Bull toyed with the idea of just falling into it and sleeping, but he knew his body wouldn't thank him the next day. Wearily, he turned and made his way to the gardens.

 

***

 

The night was cool, the fresh air serving to lift Bull's fatigue. He'd hoped to reach the garden without anyone seeing him, but soon became aware he had a follower. Kneeling to cut some herbs, he heard the door open and close behind him.

‘A little late to be gardening,’ Dorian commented, voice low.

‘I… er… needed to get a little elfroot here,’ Bull replied, surprised to hear the mage's voice. 

‘Is fucking your way through Skyhold making you sore?’ Dorian asked, amused or mocking, Bull couldn't be sure.

‘Yeah…’ he chuckled. _I’d swap them all for you._

The mage wandered around the perimeter. He wore a dark grey silk tunic, interspersed with his trademark leather straps. Although Bull teased him he thought the man always looked nice. He lowered his gaze when Dorian's back was turned and enjoyed the swagger of those hips, and ass, in their tight pants. Bull exhaled forcefully and busied himself with his task. The door behind him opened and closed again.

‘Iron Bull.’ Adaar this time.

Bull looked up and Dorian was nowhere to be seen. He pocketed his knife and stuffed the little flowers into a pouch.

‘Hey boss, how’s it going?’

‘Fine,’ Adaar answered absently, coming into view with his arms crossed. ‘Have you seen Dorian? I thought I spotted him come by this way.’

Bull held his breath for a moment. A little-known fact to the outside world was that Bull's kind could smell those they’d bedded for around a month afterwards. Whether they were attuned to their mate or they’d imprinted some kind of pheromone was unclear, and not something that was explored under the Qun. The fact that Adaar couldn’t tell Dorian was somewhere in the garden spoke volumes. Very _welcome_ volumes.

‘Ah, ‘fraid not,’ Bull replied, shrugging. ‘Have you tried his room?’

Adaar shook his head. ‘I’ll go there now.’

A few moments after the door closed on the Inquisitor, Dorian appeared from behind a column looking a little sheepish. Bull smiled.

‘What you playing at ‘vint?’ he asked.

‘Nothing that warrants your attention,’ Dorian sniffed. ‘You made that perfectly clear.’

‘Ah c'mon. Give me something, you _hid_ from the Herald of Andraste.’

Dorian rolled his eyes.

‘Didn’t the other night go so well for you two love birds?’ Bull enquired casually.

‘It went sublimely thank you,’ Dorian said quietly, eyes narrowed. ‘Zephram was, as ever, an attentive, gorgeous creature.’

Bull crossed his arms, suddenly wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

‘A great kisser,’ Dorian continued, circling him. Bull’s gut squirmed. ‘Oh and he knows how to use that mark – well, you must know **all** about that.’ The warrior remembered. A hot and pulsating energy. Adaar had learned to control the flow of power from it, used it _intimately_. The idea of him using it on Dorian pulled his heartbeat into his ears. ‘He’s _so_ handsome.’ Dorian was right beside him, Bull could feel his breath against his bicep. ‘And, purely for comparison you understand, I had to get my hands on his  _horns_ -'

Bull grabbed Dorian by the front of his robes, pulling him close so they were nose to nose. A growl escaped him. Strangely, Dorian was smiling, pupils wide but not from fear.  

'I thought you were happy for me,’ Dorian said pointedly.

The game was up. Bull could blame being Tal-Vashoth, but he knew that was a lie. He relinquished his grip.

‘I’m sorry, don’t usually lose my shit.’

‘It’s fine,’ Dorian said softly. ‘Cruel of me to poke you, but I needed to know.’

‘What?’ Bull asked pointlessly.

‘You know full well. That you're not as nonchalant as you make out. Either about me... or is it Zephram?’

It certainly wasn’t the Vashoth. Bull smiled in answer, reaching out again, slower this time, to finger the silk of the mage’s robes. It was as lovely as he imagined.

‘So I take it you’d like to finish what you started when you wrapped your mouth around my cock?’ Dorian asked huskily.

Bull coughed. ‘What about the Inquisitor?’ 

‘I was tempted and yes, I had a little fun when you decided to be foolish, but I stopped before we consummated things. I realised if I was going to bed a Qunari, I wanted it to be you. It's only polite, you saving yourself for me, your first mage and all that…’ Dorian smiled, his moustache quirking teasingly.

A new feeling curled in Iron Bull's stomach. ‘How did you know?’ he asked, voice hoarse.

‘You and I have been raised to repress our true natures. You hide it very well, but it takes one to know one.’

‘What did Zeph say?’ That wasn’t the point at all. But Bull wanted to gather facts right, understand the field, rather than letting his feelings get free rein.

‘That because you’re a big fucked up Qunari you'll have trouble with intimacy and I'd best leave well alone.’

Bull laughed bitterly. There was probably some truth to it, but then he’d never been given the chance to try.

‘Cremisius said a similar thing,' Dorian continued. 'But he asked me not to abandon ‘the big idiot’ if I still had a mind.’

It was then that Bull realised the mage's fingers were hooking into the waistband of his trousers.

‘So I suppose the question remains whether or not you want to pick up where we left off? Or whether you'd prefer to continue ploughing your way through  _far_ inferior substitutes?’


	7. Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Bull takes Dorian for a bath - and then some.

A bunch of thoughts jostled for Iron Bull's attention. He was used to propositioning others, skilled in knowing what they needed. This tricky Tevinter had flipped things around. If Bull was still under the Qun he’d be halfway to the re-educators by now. Just then the mage’s cool, slender fingers brushed Bull's lower belly and it all zoned on to one thing… hot, deep _want_. With a fistful of silk, Bull pulled the man towards him, his other hand clutching his back to hold him close. Then he answered with a hungry kiss. _Yes, damnit I want to carry on. Yes, I want you, you beautiful, wicked bas Saarebas._

Dorian’s fingers snaked down the front of Bull’s pants, caressing his hardening cock. When he murmured approval into Bull’s mouth, the warrior pushed back gently. A moment longer and he’d be ripping the silken robes and taking Dorian in the dirt.  

‘I was gonna take a bath,’ Bull began, voice husky. ‘Wanna join me?’

Dorian bit his lower lip and nodded.

 

***

 

Bull led the way to the baths and to the last, secluded alcove where a great trough had been carved out of the stone, perfect for Qunari-sized proportions. It was late and rarely did he cross people taking baths at this hour. But, he noted admirably, Dorian didn’t actually seek reassurance they would be undisturbed.

When the discussion turned to watchwords, Dorian asked Bull for _his_. This led to the warrior requesting, with an affected casual air, that the mage refrain from spell-casting - except to get the water temperature just right. Bull was grateful when Dorian didn’t mock him, or come back with a cocky retort about the hulking Qunari being a big old scaredy cat. He simply nodded and approached the bath.

When the mage leaned over to do his thing, fingers fluttering over the water line, Bull quietly stripped. Before the man could straighten, Bull was up against him, enjoying his surprised, soft cry as he nuzzled his neck. Moments later, Dorian let loose a stream of blistering Tevene when Bull made to throw him in the tub fully clothed. The man wriggled out of his grasp like a wild cat and, from a safe distance, insisted Bull throw a bucket of water over himself to wash away the day’s grime. It was a fair request, so he obliged, dousing himself with two buckets for good measure. He was rewarded with Dorian, naked at his feet, wrapping his mouth around his dick.

When the man reached around and worked himself open at the same time, Bull nearly came undone. Mercifully, Dorian pulled back and looked up at him, eyes expectant under his dark lashes. After swallowing the throbbing pulse in his throat, Bull swept him up and carried him to the bath. Somehow he managed to step in with the naked ‘vint and sink down safely into the now warm, and oiled, water.

Dorian leaned forward over the opposite edge of the tub and looked over his shoulder, a saucy smile quirking his moustache. Bull returned his smile as he leaned forward and, using the bath oils, massaged the muscle of the man’s thighs and cupped and stroked his balls.

'Get inside me, you beast,' Dorian commanded, a little breathless.

'All in good time, 'vint,' he laughed softly, playfully slapping the man's ass.

He was pleased to hear Dorian groan in response, but that wasn't where he was going. He wasn’t going to rush this, remembering from the first night how deliciously tight the man was. Dorian’s fingers might be skilled, but they were nowhere near as thick as Bull’s. And, being that this was his first time with a Qunari… Bull breathed through a surge of feelings that rose to warm his cheeks: privilege, anxiousness, excitement. Then he spread the man's cheeks and pressed his tongue to the cute puckered hole.

Dorian gasped and bucked forward. Bull waited until Dorian pushed back for more, then he probed, lapped and swirled, listening with delight to the man’s sighs and needy groans. When he released him, Dorian tried to straighten, but Bull pushed him back down, working in one slicked finger, then two.

The man was shortly squirming, complaining about being tortured, and grinding down onto Bull’s fingers. Only when his body felt ready did Bull withdraw. No sooner had he done so than Dorian surged towards him, sloshing water over the sides of their bath. He pushed Bull back with one hand and straddled him. His other hand reached for Bull’s cock, eyes dark with mirrored want. The realisation hit Bull then that Dorian was far easier to read during sex – his face open, nothing was hidden. He’d also been uncharacteristically quiet. Only simple commands, sighs, moans and curses had come from that beautiful mouth. Bull had half expected a running commentary but was pleasantly surprised to find Dorian simply enjoying the experience, not trying to impress him or cover up his feelings.

Then Dorian was gripping Bull’s shoulders and sinking and the chatter in Bull’s mind went mute. Clearing the Qunari’s flared head in one smooth push, Dorian breathed in sharply, eyelids fluttering. Bull stayed perfectly still, allowing the man to move in his own time, but also because he was in danger of shooting his wad from this alone. The view was stunning: Dorian’s glistening muscled skin, damp hair curling around his temples, lips swollen and parted. He watched intently as Dorian continued his careful descent, rocking a fraction here and there. He screwed his eyes closed, fingers digging into Bull’s shoulders. A few seconds passed and he relaxed again, before sinking down to rest against Bull’s balls. He bowed his head then, releasing a groin-tingling groan, which Bull echoed at exactly the same moment. He hadn’t expected the ‘vint to take all of him, not at first anyway. It sent a mad thrill through his buttocks and thighs that made him want to thrust upwards. _Taashath. Not yet._

Bull stopped clutching the bath’s stone rim and slid his palms gently over his lover’s thighs, hips, waist, back, pressing into muscles to release the tension. Dorian stayed still, breathing slowly, giving himself time to stretch. Finally, Bull rubbed a thumb along the man’s jawline and nestled into his smooth, extremely lickable neck. Dorian responded by capturing Bull’s ear lobe between his lips and sucking.

‘All good?’ Bull asked, a little shivery. He realised then he hadn’t said anything for ages – and yet it didn’t feel like there’d been silence between them.

Dorian nodded emphatically, a smile quirking his lips on one side. He began to move.

Bull had had sex countless times before. Game for most things, there was little anyone could show him he hadn’t seen before – yet, this _all_ seemed different. Far more sensual than he’d experienced for a first bang. The long line of people queuing up to fuck him hadn’t been after sensual. Neither had Bull. But it wasn’t just that they weren’t rutting like animals. It was _Dorian_. It was the fact he’d wanted the man for so long. Every sensation was magnified as Dorian rocked, ground, slid and flexed.

Bull had been stroking the man's flawless skin, nails scraping gently as he murmured his encouragement. The bath tub didn’t allow for much reciprocal movement, but just then he pushed up a fraction when Dorian pushed down. It was enough to make Dorian’s mouth form a pleasure-filled ‘oh’ and so he made the movement more pronounced, bucking up and causing water to sway around them.

After taking his fill of being ridden so skilfully, Bull cupped Dorian's ass in his large hands, taking his weight. The man relaxed forward, lips pressed against Bull’s neck. The contact made Bull thrust harder, pulling cries from both of them. After a respectable time, the Qunari started to chase his release, the ‘vint mewling against him doing funny things to his belly. But when Dorian tried to grasp his own cock, there was little room. With no small effort, Bull halted his thrusts and lifted the man carefully off him. Dorian glared.

'I know you asked me not to use magic, but if you don't put me back right this instant-'

'Let's turn you around,’ Bull chuckled, a little breathless.

A few shifting limbs later and Bull lay back, pulling Dorian with him, back against his chest. Bull wrapped his arms across Dorian’s chest, pinning his arms back. The mage practically purred in response. Then Bull shuffled his hips, reached between them and lined himself up, just breaching Dorian’s entrance. He entered him in one stroke. Dorian snapped his neck back, making a wanton strangled sound. Bull had to grit his teeth and focus, balls tight under the man's weight. He certainly wasn’t going to draw this out any longer. He doubted he even could. 

Bull bucked upwards while Dorian braced his feet either side of Bull’s legs. What a sight. The gorgeous 'vint lying over him was doing him in. Bull grasped Dorian's cock. The bitten-off moans that caused made Bull’s vision blur. Thank fuck the man came shortly after, juddering forward with a hard cry. Of course, that sent Bull thundering over the edge, his pelvis jolting upwards of its own accord, slamming into Dorian as his body found release.   

For a long while, they just lay there in the water. The only sounds their breathing and the gentle lapping of water around them.

‘That was something,’ Dorian laughed softly before he slowly extricated himself, stretching against Bull.

‘It sure was,’ Bull sighed.

Dorian gripped the warrior's thigh and rose slowly. The sound of the pull from the water loud suddenly, breaking the peace. Clutching the side of the stone bath, Dorian carefully lifted a wobbly leg. Bull reached for his arm, steadying him while he stepped out. Bull wondered for a moment if he should've tried harder to ruin Dorian for all movement for a while. _Ah well, perhaps next time._  But there wasn’t usually a next time. The thought pricked uncomfortably in his chest and he busied himself with massaging his scarred knee. When he looked up, Dorian was standing beside the tub. His hand outstretched, waiting.

‘Knee giving you jip, old-timer?’ he teased.

‘I’m not old,’ grumbled Bull, taking his hand and rising slowly. He covered his surprise at Dorian's gesture with a benign scowl.

 

***

 

Before they left the bath house, Bull felt the urge to pull the man in for one last kiss. He very nearly resisted but reasoned that if this was the last time he’d have Dorian then he should milk it. Blocking the man’s path towards the last door, he palmed his cheek and captured his lips. Dorian leaned into it, reciprocating easily. Bull felt his heat rise again before the mage pressed his hands to the warrior's chest.

‘You need your beauty sleep,’ Dorian drawled, a cheeky little smile lifting his moustache.

Bull laughed and let him pass, watching his beautiful ass saunter out the door.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments dear readers - you're the best. I don't have a beta and I'm largely sleep-deprived (new baby and all) so your support helps me through <3


	8. Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Bull and Dorian engage in a little roleplay.

Sitting on a rock, The Iron Bull sharpened the blade of his dawnstone axe. Technically it didn’t need it, but he wanted to look busy, not like he was waiting for anyone to show up. He glanced at the empty training area and huffed a sigh. The commander had taken a bunch of soldiers outside on training exercises, probably to avoid having to spar with the big Qunari. The Chargers were sleeping off their last job. Bull had hoped that at least Cassandra would come out for practice, but so far she was a no-show. _Koslun’s balls_ , he needed the distraction.

Last night hadn’t diminished a thing.

If anything the wanting was stronger. Bull knew he had to find a way to move past it somehow. Reasoning that a bit of meditation might help, he took a deep breath… only to inhale a huge dose of warm spice tinged with mouth-watering sweetness.

_Ah crap._

Sense memory enveloped him: the taste of Dorian’s wet skin against his tongue, the man’s wanton sounds exhaled against his neck, the tight heat of being buried inside him. Bull coughed and shifted the axe across this lap to cover his arousal. OK, so moving past it would have to wait.

‘So, I feel our liaison, while satisfactory, was lacking,’ Dorian, source of the lust-inducing scent, drawled, as he strolled before the Bull.

Bull schooled his features into nonchalance despite the conflicting mingling of lust and whatever just tugged his gut hard. Looking up, he saw that Dorian was smiling mischievously. _The little shit._ Relaxing a little, Bull curved a disbelieving brow.

‘Oh?’

‘Yes, lacking in that certain _Qunari_ something I was seeking.’

The warrior rose to his full height then, hard-on be damned and crossed his arms. Dorian’s smile faded a fraction and he visibly swallowed.

‘You see,’ Dorian cleared his throat. ‘We ‘vints believe you’re all savages, therefore we expect _brutal_ ravishment. Last night you were the perfect gentleman and that will never do.’

So this was the mage’s way of getting a second go, fine by him. Bull smirked.

‘I get it. You want these big, muscled hands to pin you down, tear off your pretty robes and conquer you. That about sum it up?’

Dorian’s nostrils flared a little and he nodded quickly twice.

‘I can help with that,’ Bull said, slowly sitting back down and grabbing his axe. Domination was easy.  ‘Gotta come prepared, though. Ravishing Qunari don’t tend to wait.’

‘Ah… indeed,’ Dorian said, voice low.

Bull ran the whetstone along the blade. Dorian didn’t move.

‘Something else?’ he asked, looking up.

‘Er… no. Well, yes. I… _when_ … can you help with that?’

 _How about fucking you **now** into the ground. _ ‘Whenever you want, bas Saarebas.’

Dorian smiled, twisting his fingers into his robes. ‘Tonight?’

‘Sure.’

The mage bounded off like a giddy boy. Bull knew how he felt.

 

***

 

Dorian came to him that night, bright-eyed and a little breathless. At the door Bull asked for his watchword and that was the only warning the ‘vint got before he was dragged inside, spun around and shoved face against the wall.

Of course, acting was one of Bull’s Ben-Hassrath specialities.

‘Ashost Qunari… meravas,’ Bull growled into his captive’s ear, relishing his sharp intake of breath.

Reaching around Dorian’s hips, Bull roughly unlaced the man's leathers, yanking them down his thighs to discover a cute plug nestled between his ass cheeks. Bull growled again, relieved Dorian had come prepared. No doubt he'd use his watchword, but Bull suspected he’d go pretty far before that happened.

Holding one hand firmly against the centre of Dorian’s back, Iron Bull pressed a thumb to the plug adding a little more pressure.

‘Oh… venhedis,’ Dorian groaned, stiffening.  

Bull slowly pulled the plug out. It made a filthy sound that made his dick stand swiftly to attention. A fact he demonstrated, by grinding up against Dorian’s firm, sweet behind.

‘Bas Saarebas,’ Bull hissed in his ear, horns scraping the wall menacingly above Dorian’s head. The ‘vint shivered under his hands, igniting a fire in Bull’s lower belly. He grasped Dorian by the shoulders and spun him to face front. Lifting his still booted foot, Bull stepped on the crotch of Dorian’s trousers, suspended mid-thigh, and pulled them down to the floor. He then ripped Dorian's tunic open sending little clasps skittering across the room. The mage didn’t protest.

Bull undid his own pants and let them pool around his feet. Lifting Dorian, he hiked those muscular thighs high over his hips. The thought flitted across his mind how easily they fit together before he reached between them and nudged his cock up against the man’s slick hole. Bull let go to grasp a handful of buttock and promptly thrust upwards, pushing partway inside. He revelled in the mage’s surprised cry and breathed through the hot tight clasp of him. _So fucking good._ Dorian was ready, but, although tempting, Bull knew better than to just fuck him raw. There was acting Qunari and being a shit, so he gave him a few seconds to stretch under the guise of teasing.

‘Ah… _fuck_ , please…’ Dorian moaned, throwing his head back. Bull couldn’t resist trailing his lips down the length of the exposed skin, before biting into his shoulder. This time, he pushed in further, not stopping until he was ball’s deep. Dorian’s resulting lengthy sigh made his cheeks burn.

Bull continued to worry Dorian’s shoulder with his teeth, licking and sucking intermittently. He'd bear Bull's mark for days. That thought inspired a primal need to stay buried deep, so instead of a steady slide, Bull began rutting Dorian up the wall. The man swore. Bull drew back to look at him but his short, unrelentingly deep, thrusts didn’t cease.    

‘Ah _yes_ , yeeessss…’ Dorian whispered hoarsely.

The look on Dorian’s face said that being ploughed against a wall by a very large Qunari was fulfilling his all-time top fantasy. His pupils were blown open and his (fucking gorgeous) lips, wet and swollen from the Bull’s rough, bristly embrace, were mouthing wordless nonsense things. It made Bull feel powerful, _right_ even.

Yet despite the warrior pinning him to the wall, Dorian wasn’t some limp thing, passive and mewling. Bull could feel strong thigh muscles gripping around his waist as the man bucked against him in the restricted space. And those powerful hands were never idle, alternately digging into Bull’s shoulders, clawing his back and grabbing a horn or two. Long minutes went by as Bull ground into the mage’s ass as hard as he dared.

‘Let me…’ Dorian panted, tense fingers releasing a horn in a bid to reach his own cock.

Bull growled, grabbing Dorian’s wrist and shoving it out of the way. Rebellion flashed in the 'vint’s eyes, but Bull glared and continued to pummel him against the wall, chasing his own release. 

‘Parshaara,’ he grunted.

Speaking Qunlat made Bull feel raw, rough around the edges, more Hissrad than The Iron Bull. He hadn't missed it, but now he was here, it felt necessary. He pulled out further to get more thrust but aborted the movement when a purple glow throbbed to life, right by his good eye.

A thrill coursed through him toe to horn. He stared at Dorian, whose grey eyes reflected purple in the darkened room. Later, Bull would wonder if he’d pushed the mage on purpose. He nodded once, almost imperceptibly. Dorian bared his teeth in a wicked grin and Bull watched with bated breath as he traced his fingers gently across Bull’s chest.

The sensation was at once weird and… _fucking fantastic_. Wherever those purple digits touched his nerves lit up, like frissons of ticklishness but instead of wanting to shake them off, Bull yearned to lean into them. The mage pinched his nipple. The sensation shot straight down into his balls drawing a sound from him that half laugh, half yell. 

The bas Saarebas had earned a reprieve so Bull let go of one of Dorian's thighs to grasp his rock hard cock. Dorian moaned obscenely in gratitude as Bull stroked him. The warrior's rhythm was distinctly off as he began to thrust again, but Dorian clearly didn’t mind, resting his forehead against Bull’s, their mingled breath ragged and hot.

Moments passed as their rhythm grew more urgent, the noises of their bodies filling the room. Bull pumped Dorian solidly and listened intently as his breath began to hitch. Dorian screwed his eyes closed and released a gorgeously loud cry as he came all over Bull’s stomach.

The vint’s scent intensified and Bull’s senses, already tingling with magic, were overwhelmed. Burying his face into Dorian’s neck, he drove his hips up hard, his rhythm lost, mind blank save for one burning purpose. Something dangerously close to a whimper escaped his mouth. _Vashedan._

A firm but gentle hand gripped the back of his neck and the sensation in his nerves became a fraction less intense. Dorian’s voice whispered to him as though from far away.

‘Kaffas, _yes_... come inside me, Bull.’

Something inside Bull broke open then and his body went rushing towards its climax. With a roar, possibly far too loud for his proximity to Dorian’s ear, Bull came, and came, spilling himself deep inside _his_ bas Saarebas.

 

Long moments passed before either of them spoke, still connected intimately as their breathing returned to normal.

Bull’s head began to clear.

‘Shit, Dorian,’ he croaked, suddenly aware that somewhere along the way he’d lost himself. He _never_ did that outside his reaver rampages. ‘Did I hurt you?’

‘No,’ Dorian responded with a weary smile. But as he stretched he winced. ‘Alright… perhaps a little, but no more than I wanted.’

Bull carried Dorian to the bed, lay him gently on his side. The back of his ripped tunic would have given him some protection against the stone wall, but even so, his skin was red and hot in places. Bull went to his washbasin, soaked a cloth and pressed it to the tender skin, before cleaning him between his legs. Dorian hissed a little, but murmured his appreciation.

‘You’re very sweet, Bull,’ Dorian said, amused.

‘What? Am I ruining the ravishing Qunari act?’ Bull said gruffly, privately furious with himself.

‘Not at all. If we were roleplay purists, you’d have flung me out of your door, half-naked by now and that would be intolerable.’

Bull grunted, throwing the washcloth back on his dresser. Then he rooted around his cupboard for some balm, glad to turn away for a moment.

‘You played your part magnificently. It was…’ Dorian drifted off a little. ‘Maker, I can see the tension in your shoulders from over here. I was going to say, utterly breath-taking, and thank you.’

Bull rolled his treacherous shoulders and returned to the bed with a pot of balm Stitches made for the Chargers. He applied it gently to Dorian’s skin, without a word.

‘I for one am delighted you let go,’ Dorian said softly. ‘It’s _exactly_ what I wanted, and I suspect what _you_ needed, although presumptions can lead one down the wrong path...’

Bull paused in his ministrations. The ‘vint wasn’t wrong, but the intensity of it was… he needed time to process it.

‘Hey, I enjoyed it,’ Bull said simply. ‘Glad you did too.’

Dorian turned to face him. ‘You’re a curious one, you know.’

‘Me? I lay it all out on the table.’

‘No, actually, you don’t.’

Bull smiled. While he was trying to get Dorian pegged, it seemed the mage was doing some investigations of his own.

‘Oh?’

‘It’s alright, we don’t have to do a counselling session,' Dorian laughed. 'I’m just letting you know that _I_ know you’re a complicated fellow.’

‘Come on, give me something,’ Bull requested, wondering what the ‘vint had figured out.

‘You’re uncouth and sometimes ridiculous…’

‘Shit ‘vint, you really know how to flatter a guy.’

Dorian rolled his eyes. ‘But then you do something so…   _impressive_. Like, when I hit you with that fear spell. Normally the enemy flees into the distance in terror, but you stood your ground and pulverised everyone in the vicinity.’

Bull smiled, suddenly warm with pride. ‘I’ve worked through a lot of my shit so yeah, although that fear spell was _despicable_ , I could leverage it.’

Dorian nodded. ‘Like I said, impressive. And tonight, I appreciated you going there – becoming the ‘other’ for me, it was incredibly hot.’

‘Well, getting zapped with your purple fingers was pretty fucking great.’ _What a surprise._

The mage beamed. ‘I’d hoped you’d enjoy it. After all, what’s the point of fucking a mage, if you don’t get to taste a little magic?’

Bull barked a laugh, then watched as Dorian rolled off the bed and walked to the door where he must've dropped a small pack. Pulling out new clothes, he proceeded to dress. Bull chuckled and lay down on his bed, arms folded under his head, to enjoy the show.

‘You off then?’ he asked, careful to keep any trace of disappointment from his voice.

‘Yes,’ Dorian said as he tightened a buckle. He didn’t offer any further explanation and Bull didn’t press him. ‘Well,’ he said finally, turning to face the Qunari and taking a small bow. ‘That was an absolute pleasure, thank you.’

‘It sure was, and you’re more than welcome, Dorian.’

The mage’s hand was on the doorknob when he paused. ‘So when can we do this again?’ he asked over his shoulder.

‘My door’s always open for you, ‘vint,’ Bull said without hesitation. It was true after all.

‘Good,’ Dorian said warmly, and he left, closing the door softly behind him.

Bull took a slow, deliberate breath. _Damn._ The beautiful mage wanted more. Well, that was fantastic and... a little disconcerting.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Ashost Qunari… meravas,’ = ‘You wanted a Qunari… You got it.'
> 
> And thanks for reading, commenting and kudos-ing :)


	9. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull finds out a little more about Dorian's past.

Much to Bull’s surprise (and barely concealed delight) hot sex with the ‘vint became a regular thing. Dorian continued to challenge, to bite, but he could be surprisingly gentle. He was passion and intelligence and need, wrapped up in a knuckle-bitingly beautiful package. The Bull relished exploring whatever Dorian offered, as long as he was offering it, and being explored in return.  

It was certainly new territory. A fact Adaar brought up again when both Iron Bull and Dorian told him (separately) they were fucking. Bull brushed it off at the time, didn’t want the Inquisitor worrying. And besides, Dorian wasn’t asking for more than Bull could give - no promises had been made, no demands, other than the kinky ones, so he’d just process any weird feelings in his usual way and see where he ended up. He was Tal-Vashoth now, and although that didn’t wipe away a lifetime’s beliefs, the Qun’s restrictions were no longer upon him.

They hadn’t discussed or defined… whatever this was. Bull took his cues from Dorian so neither of them slept over after sex and both were discreet in public. Indeed, whenever they were among the crowds, Dorian was his usual ‘vinty self, bantering and complaining. But Bull could now see that much of this was affected, a defence against the dirty looks and unfair assumptions. It pained the warrior to think of it. He found himself itching for the secure, warm Dorian he met in the bedroom... and in the baths, and in Skyhold’s secluded, crumbling rooms.

 

***

 

So The Iron Bull decided to instigate a little getting-to-know-you pillow talk. He heard people did it in relationships and it seemed a good way to extend the time he had with ‘real’ Dorian.

They were lying on Dorian’s bed after a slow, delicious session. The man was sprawled across Bull’s chest, naked save for the sheets he’d tangled around his lower half, and he lightly scraped the nails of one hand lightly over the warrior’s ribs. Bull was tempted to stroke his fingers through the man’s hair but kept them behind his head.

‘So… Dorian, how’d you play it in Tevinter?’ Bull asked casually.

‘Mmm?’ Dorian purred.

‘Upper crust ‘vints have breeding laws that’d give the Qun a run for its money. How’d you avoid being married off?’

The scratching stopped.

Dorian was quiet for so long, Bull wondered if he was pretending to be asleep.

‘Well,’ Dorian croaked and then cleared his throat and started again. ‘Well…’

Bull had stumbled onto a sensitive topic like some kind of kabethari. _Great start._

‘Shit, Dorian…  I apologise. It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ Dorian said generously, shifting to look at him. ‘Actually, I’m surprised you don’t know already, I thought nothing escaped a Ben-Hassrath.’

‘ _Former_ Ben-Hassrath and not everyone is easy to read,’ Bull offered, reaching down to tuck back a piece of Dorian’s hair.

‘You’re saying I could pull one over on you?’ Dorian asked. The proud smile brightening his face warmed Bull deeply.

‘Ha! Yep. You could give Leliana a run for her money when it comes to masking your feelings. You just have a different style - more flair.’

Dorian frowned. ‘I don’t hide my feelings from you, Bull.’

‘Here you don’t. You tell me what you want, we do it - I know full well if it ain’t working for you. But outside, you’re more… closed.’

Dorian sighed, ‘Well, that has a lot to do with how I was treated back home.’ He pushed off Bull’s chest and shifted to sit back against the headboard, pulling the sheets with him. That Bull immediately missed his weight was overtaken by the grateful realisation Dorian was going to open up. 

‘I learned to be discreet from a young age and to charm people out of looking closer.’  

‘You are damn charming.’

‘Indeed.’

Bull knew how to make people talk when needed, but now he felt a little anxious he’d do something to fuck this up. He carefully rolled onto his side, placed a hand on the sheet covering Dorian’s legs and waited. At first, the mage just stared ahead. Then he inhaled and flicked his wrist towards the fireplace setting it ablaze.

‘You recall me coming to you drunk?’ Dorian asked quietly.

‘Er… yeah.’ How could he forget? Dorian had been raw, upset about something - and it had played on Bull's mind that he hadn't dug a little deeper at the time.

‘I’d returned from seeing my father.’

Bull's gut tightened. These things were usually damn complicated. He nodded, squeezed the warm limb under his palm and listened as Dorian took him back to his youth in Tevinter. Where, at least at first, Dorian’s feisty nature was applauded and encouraged, his prodigious talent nurtured. His parents had strict standards, grooming him to perform in high society from a very young age, yet they also indulged him, loved him even. Brought up that way, Dorian was inevitably spoilt, but never cruel. As for men, his parents knew he enjoyed rolling around with them but had wrongly assumed he was going through a phase, that he would pack it all away neatly and marry when the time came. They were horrified when it turned out differently. Suddenly everything Dorian had enjoyed crumbled before his eyes, including his parents’ love.

‘My father,’ Dorian’s voice dipped low, bitter, ‘...tried to use blood magic to change me.’

‘’the fuck?!’ Bull exclaimed, the sound coming out in a whispered rush.

‘He came to Redcliffe to, of all things, _apologise_.’

Bull was at a loss for words. Of course, he didn’t know his own father, the concept alien under the Qun. But he knew about betrayal. It hurt him to imagine Dorian’s pain, then and now. The fact that anyone, blood-related or not, tried to force Dorian to… well, it made his chest tight and his fists restless.

‘Shit, I’m sorry, that sounds… really fucking bad.’ It wasn’t poetry. ‘What did you do?’

‘I listened. I wanted to storm out, but Zeph suggested I stay and hear him out at least. Not for him, for me. He was right. After everything, he is my father - and no, that doesn’t give him any rights, but I did love him and, Maker knows why… I still do. Strange as that might seem.’

‘Hey, I might not have parents, but I’ve certainly had conflicting feelings about people who’ve hurt me,’ Bull said gently. He stroked the man’s thigh, wondering what advice to offer. In the end, nothing useful or wise sprung to mind so he asked, ‘What happens now?’

‘I have no idea. We spoke, my father was all choked up, I was angry. His request for forgiveness seemed genuine, but I wouldn’t go back with him to Tevinter so we’re at an impasse. He asked if he could write, so that’s where we are.’

‘So you’re pen pals, huh?’

Dorian chuckled. ‘Yes, I suppose.’

‘Well, it’s a start, right?’ Bull knew this was the reasonable thing to say, rather than ‘ _Do you want me to smash your Pop against a wall?’_

The ‘vint nodded, eyes shining in the half-light. Before he had time to consider whether it was wise, Bull sat up and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. When Dorian gave a sweet, sad sigh, Bull worked on instinct, pulling the mage onto his lap and holding him close. He planted kisses atop his head and stroked down his arm. They stayed like that, talking about inconsequential things until the fire burned to embers in the grate.


	10. Love Makes Fools of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Protective instincts and misunderstandings make Bull feel foolish.

The Iron Bull, like any good spy, was accustomed to keeping secrets. The shit he had on people before, and after, joining the Inquisition meant he could call in favours until a ripe old age. Not that he would. He enjoyed being a confidante, whether by design or by accident and didn’t expect anything in return. The fact that Dorian had shared his father’s betrayal made Bull feel privileged. Dorian had certainly opened up to him sexually, but it was that honesty again that warmed Bull’s heart. It was something of an honour, particularly because the warrior knew how much the ‘vint layered on the bravado.  

But there was an ache that wouldn’t quit. Bull was trying to process it, deal with it as he did with all emotions, but it was a tricky thing. He could square away the ‘vint stuff, was even getting accustomed… no, fucking _loving_ the mage stuff. He’d joked that once you bed a Qunari you don’t go back, and he was beginning to feel that way about mages… Or at least one particular mage. Perhaps therein lay the problem. 

The regular, and intimate, evenings spent with one person. That… wanting: intense and unrelenting. Like he couldn’t be sated. Normally, Bull was happy to receive what those around him gave, but this thirst was both a marvel and a source of discomfort. It bordered on the territorial, more Tal-Vashoth than Qunari. Bull had always waded in to protect others, was riddled with the resulting scars, but his protective instinct practically roared at the mere thought of Dorian’s near-miss with blood magic.

That instinct was tested a few days later.

Bull was in the training yard when he heard it. 

'Filthy magister,' the Inquisition soldier hissed, spitting at Dorian’s feet.

The prick didn’t see Bull standing not ten paces behind him. Murderous rage just about cut it. The warrior made quick work of the distance, initially imagining snapping the guy's neck, but he settled for knocking the toes of his boots into the man’s heels, shunting him forward. The man’s ‘Oi!’ was muffled when he turned and got a face full of Bull’s chest.

‘Wanna repeat that?’ Bull asked, voice dangerously low. His fingers itched to squeeze the breath out of the runt. The man blanched and said nothing.

‘What’s it to you, Qunari?’ one of his companions piped up nervously. The second man, a rat-faced little shit, tilted his chin towards Dorian. The mage had halted his escape and was standing, hands on hips, impenetrable and superior, _that's my boy,_ Bull thought.

'He the reason the barmaids aren’t getting any?’ the man sneered.

Dorian frowned, lip curling in disgust as though the idea was abhorrent. Bull's stomach lurched like he'd missed a step, but he knew better than to show it. He’d been about to grab a handful of soldier, but now didn’t know how to play it.

'You speak to him like that again and I’ll break you in half, understand?’ Bull growled. It was an empty threat, usually all that was needed. ‘In the meantime, I’ll have a chat with the commander about the quality of his recruits.'

The men grumbled in protest and Bull stared them down, arms crossed until they’d skulked away.

'There was no need for your intervention, Bull,' Dorian chided.

‘No one talks shit about my-’

‘Your what exactly?’ Dorian interrupted.

 _Kadan._ That’s what Bull had wanted to say. The word had come so easily. He settled on, ‘My friend.’

Dorian straightened. ‘Thank you, but I fight my own battles. I don’t want anyone to think I hide behind my Inquisition comrades.’

‘Comrades... right,’ Bull croaked over the lump in his throat.

‘What?’ Dorian asked, arching a brow.

‘It’s pretty obvious you didn’t want them to know about us.’

‘Well, yes, but-’

‘You’re ashamed of me,’ Bull said quietly, keeping his arms crossed. ‘I don’t want to add to your problems so well, I suppose that’s that.’

Bull turned away, his head buzzing, and began walking to his quarters as calmly as possible. Behind him, he heard Dorian splutter before insistent fingers clamped around his bicep pulling him to stop.

‘Wait…  where are you going?! I’m not ashamed of _you_ , you big lummox.’

‘No?’

‘Is that really what you think?’

Bull frowned. Dorian’s eyes were wide with indignation. ‘Seriously, Bull, is that what you think of me? That I’m a complete bastard?’

‘You practically _recoiled_ when one of them suggested we were lovers.’

‘I ‘recoiled' because they caught me off guard. What we have is... private.’ Bull sensed that wasn’t the word Dorian wanted to use. ‘I didn’t want them to have more ammunition than they already do. It’s fine to dig at me because I’m a ‘vint, but not because of who I choose to take to my bed.’

‘You mean a Qunari.’

‘Technically you’re Tal-Vashoth.’

Bull growled.

‘I mean… a man, well, a male of the species.’

‘We’re not in Tevinter now Dorian - and you know it.’ Bull sighed. ‘Look, it’s alright. I get the message. I mean, you never stay over, you balk at public affection and you’ve kept us quiet even though it’s been…’ _Two months, three weeks and four days._ ‘A while.’

‘What the- _you_ never want to stay over either. When have you asked me?’  

Bull said nothing. Dorian was right, but Bull had never kicked him out.

Dorian continued, squeezing his arm. ‘Can't we discuss this in private?’

Bull felt stupid. Either he was right, Dorian was ashamed and so they needed to end this right this fucking minute. Or, he was wrong and his reaction was ridiculous, like a spurned lover from one of Varric’s novels. He didn’t like either option.

Looking over Dorian’s head, he huffed.

‘Not right now, ‘vint. Leave me be.’ He pulled his arm from Dorian’s grasp and kept walking. He had some thinking to do. Thankfully Dorian left him to it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and (especially) your comments - they keep me going :)


	11. Heart Sore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull knows it should end. Dorian disagrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you dear readers for your kind words - they spurred me on to get this out <3

Bull closed his bedroom door and sagged against it. It felt like he’d been holding his breath, his chest was tight and his sinuses burned. Dorian’s reaction to the soldier’s insinuation had _hurt_. And even if it had caught the mage off guard, even if he wasn’t ashamed, Bull felt anxious about the painful effect it had on him. He normally brushed off shit like that, not take it like a punch to the gut.

He breathed slowly, forcing his muscles to relax. When they didn’t respond, he resolved to meditate, with help from a bottle of maraas-lok.

 

***

 

A few hours later Bull was lying on the bed, boneless and well on his way to drunk when he heard a soft knock. 

‘Yeah?’ he called, his voice thick in his ears.

To his consternation, the bas Saarebas opened the door and peered in. 

‘May I join you?’ he asked. His voice was deep and soft, causing a ripple of warmth to course unbidden through Bull’s body. The warrior shrugged it off while shrugging in response. He watched as Dorian toed off his boots and came to sit on the bed beside him. Spotting the half drunk bottle, the 'vint reached over and took a long swig. The fact he barely coughed made Bull feel oddly proud. The man wiped his mouth on his sleeve, exhaled slowly and met Bull’s gaze.

‘I hurt you and I’m sorry,' he said gently.

Bull sat up awkwardly but said nothing. There were too many thoughts jangling in his brain despite his best efforts to silence them.

‘What happened to me in Tevinter has made me cautious about going public with my... affairs,’ Dorian continued, the tone laced with bitter memory. ‘It doesn’t matter that we’re in Maker-forsaken Fereldan, trauma like that doesn’t up and leave because one's having amazing sex.’

Bull smiled at that. ‘Amazing, huh?’ he managed, voice gravelly.

‘You know damn well it is,’ Dorian chided huskily. ‘But perhaps we should discuss… this.’  He gestured between them and Bull’s heart sank. _Here comes the ‘It was fun while it lasted’ talk_ he thought. When it happened with Adaar, and all others before him, Bull’s reactions ranged from relief to mild disappointment, this time… well, he’d need to drink a lot more maraas-lok.

‘Is it true about the barmaids?’ Dorian asked.

‘What?’ Bull barked, surprised by the question.

Dorian coughed. ‘You know, what that prick said about me being the reason the barmaids weren’t ‘getting any’?’

‘Oh right… yeah.’

Clear grey eyes searched Bull’s face. ‘I wasn’t aware we were exclusive,’ Dorian declared quietly.

The idea that the ‘vint slept with other people while they were… well, it cut right through the haze of the drink.

‘Fuck Dorian, I don't want to know who you've been-’ 

‘No, you mistake me, there’s been no one else. I just assumed _you_ were partaking.’

‘Nope,’ Bull breathed, relieved.

‘Why not?’

‘Dorian,’ Bull grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose to soothe the beginning of a headache. ‘What do you want from me?’

‘Just answer the question, you big oaf.’

Bull huffed a sigh. ‘You were quite enough for me ‘vint. I was happy... for it just to be you.’ Using the past tense made the cracks widen, exposing too-vulnerable parts. ‘Look, I know what you’re gonna say, and it’s fine.’ Curse that fucking waver in his voice.

‘Oh? What pray tell is that?’ Dorian asked, a waver of his own interrupting his otherwise snooty delivery.

‘We’re done,’ Bull announced, voice clipped to avoid any more fucking wavery shit.

‘Er… hardly.’ Dorian blinked. ‘I want the amazing sex to continue and I’ll be damned before I let some silly reaction ruin it all.’

‘Yeah… not gonna happen,’ Bull sighed. As much as he wanted the mage, he’d made some necessary decisions in the last few hours. ‘I can’t do this anymore, Dorian. I’m not used to wanting someone for myself. I do better at serving. It’s too much and I can’t process it.’

‘What do you mean _process_ it?’ the man asked, arching an eyebrow.

The Bull’s grasp of Common floundered on this point and he looked down at his hands.

‘The Qunlat is something like ‘diminishing’ or ‘packing away’.’ He wondered why they were still talking. Well, he knew a pretty efficient way to stop that: ‘I’m in too deep,’ he confessed, irritation making him gruff.

Dorian exhaled slowly but said nothing. The warrior’s words hung between them stupidly. Bull swallowed, frowned, kept looking at his damn hands. Just then Dorian gently took hold of one and stroked it with his thumb. Bull was heart-sore and wanted the man to leave. Dorian, the shit, persisted with the talking.  

‘Unrequited feelings are intolerable, I can see why you struggled to ah... _process_ them. I wonder if it would help if...’ Dorian brought Bull’s hand to his lips. The former Ben-Hassrath clocked a slight tremor in the man's grip before he felt the press of a kiss to his knuckle, ‘I told you they are indeed very much _requited_.’

The room tilted briefly as Bull snapped his head up. Deep colour had risen in Dorian's cheeks and his eyes were bright as he met Bull’s own.

‘The Iron Bull, please know I, Dorian Pavus, want _you_ , as well as the amazing sex, and I’d very much like to see how this unfolds.’

Bull stared dumbly at the beautiful man on his bed.  The one who was still holding onto his hand and looking up at him hopefully through long dark lashes.

Shit, he really was in one of Varric’s awful stories.

The sound Bull emitted was some kind of moan-cum-grunt as he curled the hand Dorian held and pulled him onto his lap. The mage grinned, then pressed his hands either side of Bull’s face, pulling him into a deep, urgent kiss. Somewhat dizzy, Bull closed his eye and wrapped his arms around the solid warmth of his lover. He held on tight until the kiss became gentle and slow.  

Dorian pulled back and pressed his forehead against the Bull’s. ‘Your experience of relationships is non-existent, mine slim,’ he laughed softly. ‘What a pair we shall make.’

Bull laughed in return and noticed his heart had been soothed and made whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one. I know I was a little cruel to you last time, hopefully, this will be a soothing balm (for now :))


	12. Outed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian wants Iron Bull to tell people about them. But they also have a few things of their own to discuss.

That night Dorian stayed over for the first time.

Even without sex (Bull had been far too drunk), it felt damn good.

Bull had pulled Dorian down onto the bed and tugged him up close. Dorian teased him, something about how ridiculous it was that an enormous Qunari had such a soft spot for 'vints, waifs and strays. Bull chuckled into his hair, made a lewd comment about Dorian being free to explore his soft spots any time, and fell into a contented slumber.

He was nudged unhappily awake at dawn. The ‘vint was leaving. _One step at a time I suppose_ , Bull thought. Dorian pulled on his trousers and then sat beside Bull as he tugged on his boots.

‘I’m leaving because I am indeed fearful of embarrassment,’ Dorian said quietly. ‘But not because of you, or us. Rather I’m not ready to face Skyhold in yesterday’s clothes and sans finely curled moustache. Can you forgive me?’

Relieved, Bull smiled and ruffled his hair. ‘Sure, big guy,’ he replied, settling back down to sleep. When Dorian didn’t get up, Bull cracked his eye open. ‘I get it, don’t sweat it.’

‘No, it’s… I confess I don’t have the stomach for a public declaration. Too much Tevinter in my veins.’ He coughed before continuing. ‘Can you ‘out’ us?’

Bull suspected it would be healthier for Dorian to do his share of announcements, but he also didn’t understand all the shit the man had endured.

‘You got it,’ he smiled.

Bull actually thought it was pretty damn brave, leaving it to the big, loud Tal-Vashoth - Dorian had to know it wasn’t going to be subtle.

That was why, a few days into a journey to the Emerald Graves, the warrior thought he’d do something romantic, Iron Bull-style. They had a larger party than normal. Vivienne, Cassandra, Varric and Cole had accompanied Adaar. The two women were headed to Orlais to parlay with nobles and Cole, well, he did what he wanted most of the time. So, Bull made a saucy announcement under the guise of teasing Dorian about their escapades. The elements included them doing it three times last night (not true) and Dorian leaving his silky underthings behind (definitely true, at least previously).

Dorian blanched, but to his credit made a few quips in return and it was done. Varric’s presence was a guarantee the story would be all over Skyhold when they returned, and doing it out here meant Dorian could get accustomed to a few gentle japes beforehand. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad, perhaps if Sera had been in the party there'd have been some proper poking.

By that evening, it had sunk in. And as they sat around the campfire, Bull tucked into his bowl of stew and enjoyed the comments:

 

Varric: ‘Of all the romances I’ve written, I never imagined this could be a thing. Sparkler and Tiny, from two different worlds. Their love knew no boundaries… Does that tickle your romantic soul, Seeker?’

Cassandra: ‘ To find solace in these dark times is precious. If you are both happy, then I am pleased for you.’

Varric: ‘So, _very_ tickled, then.’

Cassandra: ‘Varric, please.’

 

Adaar: ‘Thank the Maker it’s out. I can’t wait to see Mother Gisele’s reaction, or indeed Cullen’s, or hah! Blackwall’s!’

 

Vivienne: ‘Some of us are clearly more observant than others, I did wonder when you’d _finally_ go public. And as long as you leave out the tawdry details, I’m delighted for you, darlings.’

Dorian: ‘What no scoffing, haughty nose tilting or scathing commentary? I’m scandalised.’

Vivienne: ‘You’ll have enough of that from everyone else my dear, I’d rather not add to it.’

 

Dorian frowned.  There’d certainly be some scandal. Bull felt for the guy. It would be difficult for him-

 

Cole: ‘His soft hair, silk through my rough fingers. Skin perfect copper against scarred grey. Yet I am wanted. Wanting never to be without him.’

 

_Ah, crap._

 

Iron Bull could feel everyone’s eyes on him. Thankful to the stars for his training, he shrugged and took a larger mouthful of his stew. Dorian’s gaze continued to bore into him though so Bull felt compelled to look up. He gave the man a saucy, food-filled smirk to cover the fact Cole had basically just outed him as a sappy, love-struck fool. After only _three months._ Dorian smiled back but his eyes said: you’re freaking me out.   

 

***

 

It was late when both he and the mage were unfolding their bedrolls in their shared tent. Dorian tugged his tunic over his head and Bull crossed his arms and ogled the finely chiselled chest muscles the action revealed. The smirk on Dorian’s face belied the roll of his eyes as he noticed his appreciative audience.

‘Admiring the view?’ he asked, eyes crinkling a touch in amusement.

‘Yep,’ Bull answered, unhooking his harness with ease and tossing it into a corner. He felt the man’s eyes on him in turn before he looked back. But Dorian was already pulling on a night shirt.

‘I suppose I should’ve known you’d do something like that,’ the mage sighed. ‘Well, thank you. It was certainly an effective way to announce our… relationship.’

Ah there it was. The R word. Despite what he’d blurted out, they hadn’t actually had sex since their little moment in Bull’s room, a fortnight ago. Well, there was the night they’d taken each other in hand while bathing alone, the rest of the crew having retired early. But that was it. Going without sex on missions wasn’t that unusual, what with the danger, exhaustion, lack of hygiene (it bothered Dorian more). Plus, tents weren’t the man’s favourite place for sex, even though he was pretty good at setting up noise-cancelling runes.  Yet…

Bull wondered if it was because they'd started to veer into relationship territory. New ground for both of them. He didn’t have a fucking clue about how any of it should go, but he certainly knew he wanted to be buried in the ‘vint from time to time and he suspected said ‘vint wanted that too.

‘Hey, Dorian,’ he said softly. ‘The next time we have sex, like full-on, you sitting on my dick sex, it doesn't have to be sunshine and rainbows, happy endings or whatever… well actually, yeah I want some happy endings, but it doesn't have to mean that we’ve changed.’

Dorian coughed. ‘I suppose we haven’t discussed perimeters have we?’

‘Of the sex?’

‘The relationship.’

There it is again. Bull knew he had to tread carefully. He’d been making love confessions left, right and centre it seemed. He played it light.

‘Well I don’t want to plough anyone else, and I’d rather you didn’t either but hey if that’s what you want I have an open mind. I’ve done three-ways, four-ways and-’

‘Yes, yes, you’ve sown your oats all over Thedas, bravo.’ Dorian huffed, rolling his eyes again. ‘I agree to those terms. Exclusivity, unless we decide to invite someone into our bed.’

Bull nodded, ‘Great. Hey, I can wait. And it’d be nice if you could fuck me sometime.’

Dorian seemed to perk up at that. ‘You want me to fuck you? That's novel.’

‘You haven’t done it before?’

‘Andraste’s tits,  _of course_ I have. But… well, I just assumed-’

‘Yeah, you’re not the first. I've got a big dick and plenty want a ride, think I don't wanna be on the receiving end. But believe me, I _like_ to get fucked. It’s been a hell of a long time and I’d really enjoy a ploughing from a sexy bas Saarebas.’

Dorian grinned. ‘I’d be delighted.’

Making things smutty again was what they needed. None of this _feelings_ crap. At least for a while. He didn’t want to scare Dorian off. Thankfully their chat got Dorian slinking over to the Bull's bed roll where he took the Tal-Vashoth in hand, and mouth, with such gusto it made Bull see stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks! Sorry, it's been a while. I do actually have a lot of this drafted up and know where it's going but life often slows it all down. Thanks so much AGAIN for your amazing support. Got some chapters stuffed full of feelings and smut coming up. Hope you're game.


	13. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull gets what he wished for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some smut for you.

The Iron Bull lowered himself into a dark cool pool not far from camp. If it wouldn’t interfere with the wildlife, he would ask Dorian to heat it up to scalding. Those old aches were back with a vengeance. The Emerald Graves was a gorgeous place, but Bull completely understood the 'vint's continued grousing. Those thick, randomly dispersed tussocks and hidden ditches made the ground surprisingly hard going, as well as hiding a few nasty critters AND rocks. Then there was the incessant cricket chirping, flies and animal calls all fricking night long. It made the warrior a little irritable, that and the fact their conflicting watches meant he and Dorian hadn’t much time for any fun.

The warrior became aware he was being watched, even before he caught his lover’s scent over the water. Turning slowly, he spotted Dorian leaning against a tree, about to take a bite of an apple. 

‘Oh don’t mind me, Tal-Vashoth, I'm simply admiring the view,’ he drawled.

That title from anyone else’s lips would still make Bull wince. Instead, he smiled and meant it. ‘Why don’t you join me?’ he asked.

Dorian tossed the fruit onto the ground. His clothes forming a pile on top of it soon after. 

‘Kaffas! It’s fucking freezing, ’ he yelped the moment his foot hit the water.

‘It’s fine when you get in, ‘vint. Come on,’ Bull growled. Watching Dorian strip had warmed him right through and now all he wanted was the man's skin pressed against his own.

Dorian scowled as he ran in, emitting a series of ‘ah, ah ahs,’ as he went. Bull chuckled. The man was mighty cute. Dorian clasped at him, presumably hoping for some warmth. Bull wrapped his arms around the now shivering limpet. ‘Give it a minute, you’ll get used to it,’ he said warmly.

Dorian pressed his lips to Bull’s skin and swore in Tevene. The contact sent frissons down Bull’s spine. ‘This reminds me of the first time we did it,’ he said huskily, dick filling even in the cool water.

‘It was a lot warmer then,’ Dorian growled.

‘I got an idea how to heat things up,’ Bull smirked and felt Dorian smile against him.

Just then several camp guards came bounding through the trees, towels over their shoulders.

‘Ah shit,’ Dorian and Bull said in unison.  

 

***

 

Back in their tent, Bull massaged his sore knees. Gritting his teeth he pressed into a sore spot and unwittingly released an odd grunt. Dorian threw the towel he'd been using to dry his hair at Bull's head and it ended up hanging from his horns. Bull growled as he yanked if off and reapplied himself to the task. The mage made a soft sound and knelt down before him.

'Let me,' he said gently before placing magically heated palms over the offending joints. The warmth crept pleasingly up Bull's thighs.

‘Whoa... that’s gorgeous,’ he murmured reverently.

Dorian smiled and kept working his leg, head bowed, damp hair flopping forward.

‘Actually, this view's gorgeous too,’ Bull added, reaching down to stroke Dorian’s cheek. Dorian’s eyes crinkled fondly and Bull’s stomach flipped. 'Hey, just because my legs need a rest doesn't mean we can't, you know.' 

After a few moments, the man cleared his throat. ‘Well, I have an idea,’ he said softly to the warrior's knees. 'Something you asked for - which should give these venerable things a rest.'

'Yeah?'

Dorian looked up then, eyes dangerously dark. Bull’s stomach actually lurched this time, tipping molten heat into his groin.

‘Fuck yeah,’ Bull agreed, voice low.

With slicked hands, the mage continued his massage, this time over the warrior's taut hamstrings, in itself a beautiful thing. Soon, Bull was lying back, thighs splayed. Dorian placed one hand on Bull’s cock, gently stroking while the fingers of the other hand circled, pushed, and - oh boy - gave off a few warm pulses. The effect pulled an awestruck, ‘Damned bas Saarebas,’ from Bull’s throat.  

Finally, Dorian knelt between Bull’s thighs. When nothing happened for a few seconds, Bull opened his eye. Dorian was frowning slightly, tilting his head as he considered the position. Bull knew he posed a certain logistical challenge but kept his mouth shut to see what the man came up with. Dorian rose and grabbed his own blankets, rolling them up into a decent wedge. He then nudged at Bull to lift up and tucked it under his ass. The angle was much improved. ‘There!’ exclaimed Dorian, satisfied. A lock of still damp hair had fallen over Dorian’s eye. He shook it back and winked at Bull. The warrior’s heart skipped a beat.

Dorian went back to kneeling and slicked up his cock with one hand. The nails of the other hand lightly scraped down Bull’s inner thigh. Then Dorian leaned forward, lined himself up and pushed in slowly. The Tal-Vashoth groaned, long and loud as the mage continued his inexorable slide. It had been a long time but Dorian had prepared him well. The inevitable extra stretch was nothing compared to the feeling of fullness and warmth.

‘Andraste’s tits, Bull, you feel amazing,’ Dorian breathed huskily. ‘Is this alright?’

Bull nodded. ‘Yeah... so good. But you better fucking move soon.’  
  
Dorian did move then and Bull lost the ability to hold onto his thoughts.

The man was grace and power, rolling his hips like an Antivan belly dancer. Bull had seen something similar when Dorian had sat on his dick before but this was… well, now the mage’s cock was buried in his ass so it was a very different story. His pulse was in his ears as Dorian pressed his palms to Bull’s chest, fingers curling slightly.

‘How's that?’ Dorian asked, voice a little tight as he kept up a steady pace.

‘Hell yeah, ‘vint, put your back into it.'

Dorian smiled wickedly before drawing out and slamming back in, yanking a ‘Vashedan!’ from Bull. The man alternated between slow, delicious slides and hard shoves. It was sweet torture. 

Dorian leaned forward and, unable to reach Bull’s mouth, placed a kiss between his pecs before drawing back up again onto his strong arms. He shifted the angle causing Bull to arch back.

‘Fuck! Yep, that’s the spot, you shit!’

Dorian laughed.

Bull’s cock, which had waned when Dorian's had its way, was growing hard again. He grabbed it and began to stroke himself in time with the man thrusting between his thighs. The hot relentless thrust of Dorian’s bastard cock drew most of his focus, but he opened his eye enough times to enjoy the magnificent show. That dark skin, covered in a veil of sweat, those ridiculously defined muscles shifting and straining to support the man’s now piston-like motions. Then there was that damned beautiful face, lips swollen and parted on moan after moan. Surely a desire demon couldn’t be more tempting. Bull pumped his cock faster. 

‘Talk to me Dorian,’ he groaned.

Dorian slowed his pace a little but kept going hard and deep, making his lover's eye water.

‘You take my cock... beautifully, Bull,’ he said, all breath and honesty. ‘I love... Maker, I love being inside you.’

The heat and tension in Bull broke and he came hard, bending forwards with the force of it. It'd really been a long time since he’d come with a good, hot cock in his ass.

Dorian leaned forward to capture his mouth at the same time Bull shuddered forward. The warrior could barely reciprocate at first, lip hanging uselessly. It was clear the man wasn't far behind. He gave a little high pitched moan as he fucked faster into Bull sending a thrill through Bull’s haze. The warrior gripped the man’s shoulders, steadying him as he began to flail.

‘That’s it, kadan, I wanna feel you. Come in me,’ he pleaded hoarsely.

Dorian’s hips snapped a handful more times before he finally bottomed out with a soft, almost pained, cry.

Bull would've happily lay there until they went to sleep if he hadn’t needed to drag the man out of the suddenly flaming canvas.

Flushing furiously in the light of the fire, Dorian managed to cast an ice spell, but not before everyone saw them naked. Laughing, Bull shielded the ‘vint as best he could before the man grabbed some robes. Even standing in the cold, bare ass to the wind, Bull didn't really care. One word resonated in him over and over.

 _Kadan,_ kadan _,_ kadan _._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been toying with doing a Dorian POV chapter. Not sure yet... *scratches chin* - do let me know your thoughts on this, gorgeous ones.


	14. In Too Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull and Dorian return to Skyhold where everyone knows about them. Which is precisely when the cracks in their relationship begin to widen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience and kind words of encouragement, it really helps :) I was stuck for some reason and re-wrote this damn chapter so many times. It's been sitting on my computer torturing me for weeks. Now it's done and the rest should come out faster than this one has (famous last words).

News of Bull and Dorian’s flaming tent episode spread impressively fast following their return to Skyhold. By the afternoon seemingly everyone knew about it - and about _them_. Krem clapped Bull on the back and got a few drinks in. It wasn’t really news to him, or the rest of the Chargers, judging by the zingers they flung Bull's way.They’d clearly thought long and hard about some of those filthy Qunari/vint jokes.  
  
Adaar whisked Dorian off somewhere which made sense. It meant Bull could deal with the fallout while Dorian prepared his game face. It wasn’t an ideal homecoming for the ‘vint and Bull yearned to speak to Dorian privately. He hadn’t had much opportunity to talk to him after the fire incident. They’d had to bunk with other party members after their tent burned down, Dorian in Adaar’s spacious tent and Bull with Varric. Adaar had banned the pair from sharing a tent for the rest of the journey - which lasted a frustrating fortnight.  
  
Bull admitted he was concerned. Dorian, carefully put together, _private_ Dorian, had been exposed, post-sex vulnerable. Outwardly, the mage had laughed it off and endured the continued ribbing gracefully, but Bull could see the man’s facade for what it was.  
  
Then there was the fire itself. The Tal-Vashoth found it funny at the time, high as he'd been from the mind-blowing sex, but it dawned on him they could've been roasted alive. Bull was certainly conflicted about that. He'd been dropping what was left of his Qunari heritage like pieces of red lyrium these past months. It was easier than he'd imagined. He’d never been a typical Qunari, always questioning, curious from a young age. Then there were the years in Seheron, meeting Krem and forming the Chargers, the Inquisition... and most especially, of course, Dorian. And that was OK. More than OK, in fact. But, it was still disconcerting (and thrilling and sexy and weird) to be… well, he had to admit it, at least to himself, in love with a ‘vint mage. No. In love with _Dorian Pavus_.     
  
They’d talked a little, riding home and around the campfire, Dorian seemed fine, if a little sheepish around Bull. The warrior shook it off. Yeah, he was itching to get close to his kadan, but he had to get a grip. He’d be able to catch up with Dorian soon enough.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
Thankfully, the warrior didn’t have to wait long. Later that evening, Dorian boldly (game-face) entered the Herald’s Rest looking as stunning as usual in a long dark coat, with his usual number of silver buckles. He greeted the Charger’s guffaws with a fancy bow before heading directly to the bar, coat-tails flapping behind him.

Bull considered waiting for him to come over but when Dorian lingered for longer than he’d like, Bull joined him, suppressing his suddenly intense need to grab the man and pull him into a bear hug.

‘Hey,’ Bull said warmly, nudging the man as they both leaned on the wooden bar.  
  
‘Hey yourself,’ Dorian replied, a genuine smile tugging the edges of his full lips. ‘You don’t need to worry,’ he sighed. ‘I shall get used to the mockery eventually.’  
  
‘You’re handling it like a champ.’  
  
‘Thank you,’ Dorian sighed again, before grabbing the flagon Cabot slid over and taking a long drink. Bull gazed at Dorian’s throat which bobbed with the action. The man’s collar was pulled up, framing the small amount of skin on display. Bull’s mouth actually began watering at the thought of pressing his lips to it. ‘Ah, I needed that,’ Dorian continued, breaking Bull’s train of thought. ‘I’m utterly mortified.’  
  
Bull waved his hand dismissively. ‘Ah people talk and then they move on. It’ll blow over soon.’  
  
‘It’s not that,’ Dorian said softly, fingering his tankard. ‘It actually doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would.’ Clearing his throat he asked, ‘I’m more concerned about you.’  
  
‘Er.... what?’  
  
‘Well, if you hadn’t noticed, this bas Saarebas lost control and burned down our tent. And at a particularly vulnerable moment.’  
  
‘Ah, that, yeah. I didn’t know mages could- it was weird. I suppose I should be flattered.’  
  
Dorian snorted. ‘It didn’t bother you?’  
  
For a fleeting moment, Bull considered lying to save Dorian's feelings, but it was surprisingly difficult. ‘A bit, yeah. I suppose I just wonder if… could you have set _us_ on fire?’  
  
‘Maker, no!’ Dorian exclaimed in a half-laughed gasp. ‘It wasn’t combat magic. I didn’t mean harm, especially to you... at that er… moment.’  
  
Bull coughed into the back of his hand to cover his grin, and his relief. ‘Do you know why that er... _moment_ did it for you?’  
  
Dorian glanced around but the bar was largely empty and Cabot had disappeared out back. ‘I…’ Dorian stared at the tankard, his fingers fidgeting around the sides.  
  
Bull reached out without thinking, gently stroking the side of Dorian’s jaw. ‘Hey, kadan, you can talk to me.’  
  
Dorian didn’t shrug him off but fixed him with his bright grey eyes. There was a resignation in them, or was it surrender?    
  
‘You’re not the only one who might be in too deep,’ he declared, voice barely above a whisper.  
  
Bull felt a flutter in his gut, knew he’d raised an eyebrow in surprise which had somehow stuck. At the same time, he felt himself uncoil, like he’d been tense for a while.  
  
‘But, I need to know,' Dorian continued, eyes boring into Bull now. 'Am I going to be enough for you?’  
  
Confused, Bull frowned. ‘What do you mean?’  
  
Dorian appeared to steel himself and let it out: ‘I spent the last few weeks sharing tent space with the strapping and impossibly ripped Zephram Adaar. I saw all those muscles and that ridiculous cock, and I know it's over between you but there are other huge Tal-Vashoth in this world, not to mention the massive Avaar folk. Imagine what you could do with people like that, you could push them so much further than I, a mere human mage, can withstand.’  
  
Bull inhaled slowly. There was a lot in there. The warrior had to sift past a little territorial tug at the mention of a naked Adaar in close quarters with his 'vint. Then, yeah, technically, Dorian was right about the bigger boys but it didn't mean shit.  
  
‘Kadan, I want you more than anyone, all the fucking time. Of course, you’re enough for me, no, that’s inaccurate, you’re way more than I deserve.’  
  
Dorian reached for Bull’s hand and pulled him wordlessly from the bar towards the staircase to Bull’s room.  
  
  
  
That night there was an urgency to their joining that Bull had never experienced before. A raw need to tear away the layers of separation between them and sink into one another. Bull couldn’t get enough, the wanting was amplified a hundred-fold and demanded he obey it. Dorian pinched and slapped and grasped and groaned and Bull dug his nails into that beautiful flesh, smothering his lover’s body with his own and fucking him until Dorian screamed his name.  
  
  
  
The next morning, Iron Bull woke early, full of energy. Dorian was snoring softly so Bull pulled on his trousers and boots and quietly stepped outside. The sun was just beginning to rise and the air was refreshingly frigid. Bull’s blood was up so he decided to go a few rounds with a training dummy (or three) before breakfast.  
  
One thing led to another and it wasn’t until noon that Bull returned to his quarters. As he opened his door, he saw the same blanket-covered mound he’d left several hours before. As he chuckled, the mound shifted and groaned.  
  
‘Hey sleepy head, did I tire you out good and proper last night?’  
  
Dorian pulled the blanket down, his face a little pale.  
  
‘Vishante kaffas, where in Thedas have you been all this time?’ He sounded wrecked, and a little pissed.   
  
Bull didn't bite. ‘I woke early, thought I’d leave you to rest, what you wanted to spoon?’  
  
Dorian gave a wry laugh. ‘Not exactly, get me some warm water and elfroot, will you?’  
  
Bull scratched his head, ‘And you couldn’t get that yourself?’  
  
‘I’m stuck to these bastard sheets,’ Dorian moaned, wriggling his hips uncomfortably.  
  
Bull guffawed and clambered onto the bed. This he had to see, his lover somehow glued to the bed with their spend. He placed one hand on the bottom sheet to hold it in place and grasped Dorian’s shoulder, readying to pull them apart. Dorian cried out in protest, ‘No, Bull-’ but Bull aborted the action when he saw dark, dried blood on the nape of his ‘vint’s neck and staining the sheets.  
  
‘Vashedan!’ he exclaimed. ‘Dorian, what the fuck? Did I do this to you last night?’  
  
Dorian must have caught the horror on his face as he tried to twist around, despite the pain it clearly caused him.  
  
‘Bull, it’s just a few scratches. I didn’t even realise and fell asleep soundly. They must have dried in the night is all.’  
  
‘Scratches? Gouges more like,’ Bull growled, nausea threatening to bring up his late breakfast, his heart hammering in his chest.  
  
‘Just get me the water, please,’ Dorian croaked.  
  
The warrior scrambled off the bed and shakily poured a pitcher of water into his wash basin, throwing in a clean cloth before bringing it to the mage to warm. Bull found a healing potion and poured a few drops into the soon steaming water. Taking a steadying breath, he focused on the task at hand, gently rolling Dorian and working on moistening the dried blood. As he peeled the softening material away little by little, Bull discovered claw marks all down his lover’s back. The Tal-Vashoth had nails, yes thick and strong, but _nails_ , yet it looked like the 'vint had been swiped by a bear's claws. Then he noticed the deep bite mark on Dorian’s shoulder, the skin horribly bruised and scabbed. Bull growled, he couldn’t even remember tasting blood.     
  
‘Are you alright back there?’ Dorian asked gently.  
  
‘Fuck, Dorian, no I’m not, but it’s me who should be asking you that.’ He swallowed over the lump in his throat. ‘Why didn’t you use your watchword?’  
  
‘I… didn’t want to,’ Dorian said. ‘I was enjoying myself.’  
  
‘I gouged out the flesh in your back, bit a chunk out of your neck, are you _shitting_ me?’ Bull felt hysteria burn in his chest. ‘Did I hurt you and you didn’t say it?’  
  
'You're exaggerating,' Dorian said gruffly.

'Dorian?'

Dorian didn’t answer. Bull pushed himself off the bed, feeling sick to his bones.  
  
‘Why didn’t you say it?’ His voice came out high-pitched and weird. When Dorian still didn't respond, he grabbed the edge of his dresser and slammed it back against the wall sending everything flying. ‘Dorian, fucking answer me!’  
  
Dorian sat up slowly and finally met Bull’s eye. ‘After the fire incident and what you said last night... I didn't want to spoil anything.’  
  
‘So you thought you would just let me maim you? Do you think that’s what I wanted?’  
  
‘I admit I pushed myself past my normal limits, but I enjoyed it. I honestly didn’t realise you’d drawn blood.’ The man sounded calm, irritated but rational. No, it was too late. This had seeped into Bull's veins. This was the second time he'd lost himself and it was two times too many.

'Katoh,' he said calmly. 'We're done.' 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold tight, wonderful readers...


	15. It's Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull gets on until Krem interferes.

Dorian blinked. They’d agreed _katoh_ meant no questions. Bull clung to that as he watched Dorian gather himself, slide off the bed and dress as quickly as he could, wincing as he pulled on his shirt. Bull stood unmoving at the end of the bed, clenching his jaw and willing himself to be calm.

Dorian ran his hands through his hair as he moved towards the door to the ramparts. Before he grasped the handle, however, he inhaled sharply and turned to face Bull, eyes defiant.

'You can't just katoh this, Bull. I’m not a delicate flower and these scratches look worse than they are.’

Bull felt anger rise like bile in his throat.

‘Dorian, if you knew me _at all_ you'd have used your fucking watchword,’ he growled.

The ‘vint glared at him. Bull distantly felt glad, as he always did, that Dorian wasn't afraid of him.

'You’re fully aware I haven’t had the healthiest of relationships in the past, there's bound to be a mistake here and there.' Dorian huffed, exasperated. 'I just wanted all of you, not the version that has to hold back, is that so bad?'

Bull swallowed, his mouth was dry and his head burned. How could the man not know? He stared at Dorian before answering slowly so as to control the anger and sorrow threatening to overwhelm him.

‘You _had_ all of me. I’ve been more myself with you than anyone and yet you allowed me to do something I’ve feared bone-fucking-deep since I was expelled from the Qun. I trusted you to use your watchword and you-.’

Emotion strangled Bull's words. He stared dumbly at the man who had his heart and watched realisation change his beautiful features, twisting them to regret. Dorian brought his hands together, as if in prayer, and inhaled.

‘Quite right,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Bull closed his eyes and didn’t open them again until Dorian was gone.

 

***

 

The rest of the day went by both hyper-real and a blur. Colours were bright, sounds loud, but Bull’s movements were hazy. He allowed thoughts to flit in and out like birds, not holding on to anything for too long. He tidied his room, scrubbed the floor, bundled the bedsheets into a pile for washing. Thoughts came and went, Bull studiously skirting away from anything that had a ‘vint-like shape.

As the warrior pulled open the door the cold brightness of Skyhold refreshed him once again, no matter that he felt significantly less bright than this morning. He tended to his weapons, spoke to Harritt about dawnstone, went about his day. He did fine. Barely glancing at Dorian’s window.

The warrior took his meal in the ‘Rest. It was only when he returned to his room that he stumbled, glimpsing the sheets in the corner that he’d neglected to take to the washrooms. It was nothing a quick evening stroll wouldn't fix. Nothing to panic about. And if he had to breathe out more than he breathed in so as to lessen Dorian’s scent, so it had to be.

The next day passed in a similar fashion. Bull knew he was a little stiff in his demeanour but people treated him the same, no questions, no odd glances. He briefly wondered how Dorian was, how his back was healing up. The chasm that threatened to open at that forced him to abruptly squash the thought. So perhaps not fine then. Not fine at all.  

 

***

 

‘Chief?’

Krem had asked him something as they sat down for breakfast.

‘Huh? Sorry, Kremepuff, I was just-’

‘Dreaming of your ‘vint?’

Bull took a bite of a bread roll so he didn’t have to answer right away. It was dry in his mouth and hard to swallow.

‘We’re… he’s not my ‘vint.’

‘Alright, so possession’s not your thing-’

‘I mean, he’s not mine _anymore_.’

It was a statement made in as neutral and flat a tone as Bull could manage. To anyone it would have been a simple announcement, nothing dramatic, they’d moved on, so what? Of course, Krem, the shit, knew him better.

‘Come train with me, I feel like working up more of an appetite,’ he ordered, rising from his chair.

The warrior was going to refuse, wanted to tell him to mind his own fucking business, but when Krem grabbed his arm he allowed himself to be led.

They went a few rounds until Krem was breathing heavily and Bull had worked up a sweat. Then the man held his hand up to take a break and asked the question. Bull told him the basics, knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it otherwise. Krem stretched his muscles, gave nothing away. When Bull was done he felt a little lighter, if somewhat deflated.

‘So you gonna call me a big idiot like you usually do?’ Bull enquired, eyebrow raised in challenge, though in truth he had no fight left.

Krem gave him _the look_. The one he rarely gave except when Bull needed it, all mocking but soft. It was both soothing and really unhelpful. Bull felt his sinuses prickle.

‘Nah, not this time,’ Krem answered. ‘What Dorian did was really dumb. But I also know how messed up Tevinter is. The man is amazingly well adjusted considering.’ Krem rubbed his chin. ‘The thing is, no offence, but you also herald from a messed up place so it's an adjustment, this whole sharing your shit with someone. Maybe it’s a little crazy, maybe sometimes you make mistakes, but that's a good thing.’

‘A good thing? He’s burning down tents and I’m… well, I’m too rough. He pushes my buttons and it’s too intense.’

Krem barked a laugh and said simply, ‘Sounds pretty normal to me.’

‘Normal? For what?’

‘For two people who’ve got under each other’s skin. For two people who’re-’

‘Don’t-’

‘In love.’

Bull growled. Krem picked up his sword with a smirk.

‘You need some space sure, but you should work this out. You deserve to be happy. Now, I’m gonna see if there’s any breakfast left.’ The smug bastard gave Bull a fond punch to his arm as he sauntered past.

 

***

 

After strolling the ramparts for the best part of an hour, Bull headed to what had become, for him, Dorian’s tower. He jogged up the steps and when the man wasn’t there marched to his quarters.

Dorian opened the door, eyes widening with surprise.   

‘Can I come in?’ Bull asked briskly.

‘Yes, of course,’ Dorian replied, a little hoarse but welcoming.

Bull took in the room, empty wine bottles about the place, a slight funk in the air like he hadn’t left in a while. Bull squashed down the tender feelings he had about that. He looked over Dorian next. The man stood in his mauve silk dressing gown, a gift from Bull. The Tal-Vashoth didn't even know what mauve was until Dorian swooned over it in Orlais. He looked tired, wan and a little puffy around the eyes, but still damned handsome.

‘How are you doing?’ Bull asked gruffly, gesturing to Dorian’s person, meaning his back.

Dorian cleared his throat. ‘All better, thank you. Would you like to see?’

‘No, it's fine.'

'Where are my manners? Drink?'

Dorian was affecting a casual air but everything about him was tense. Bull decided to cut to the chase.

‘I'm going to ask you a couple of questions and you're going to be completely honest with me,' he stated simply, but his tone brooked no refusal. Dorian opened his mouth, closed it again, then crossed his arms over his chest and nodded.

'Did you enjoy having sex with me?’

Dorian blinked, hesitated presumably to deliver a sarcastic quip, before deciding that answering Bull directly was wiser.

‘Maker, yes, abso-fucking-lutely. _Surely_ you could tell from the moans, cries and blistering expletives you pulled from me, and the fact I came all over you on a regular basis?’

The imagery made Bull's cock twitch. ‘Yeah… I guess.’

‘Yeah… I guess.’ Dorian raised a mocking eyebrow.

Bull rubbed the back of his neck, damn thing was so stiff. Dorian knew how to massage it with those expert mage fingers. Bull glanced at them and saw them flicker in response.

_It would be so easy to go to him._

‘I need to know one more thing.’

‘Yes?' Dorian asked expectantly, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

‘Were there other times... when you should’ve used your watchword and didn’t?’

Dorian's face fell. He swallowed, fiddled with his fingers.

Bull went numb. 

‘Shit... Bull... amatus... it was only a handful of times. A pinch here, a scratch there. Yes, there were times I should have said it but you always stopped before it got too much.’

Bull breathed out slowly. He would say this and then he would leave.

‘What's held me together since becoming Tal-Vashoth is knowing there are still boundaries, rules. Rules for the Inquisition, rules for being a mercenary, rules in the bedroom. I need to bump up against boundaries. Without them I don't know what I am and I don't feel in control.’

_Breathe._

‘Now I know the boundaries I had with you were an illusion, I can't trust you.’

What else was there to say? Bull moved towards the door.

'That's it?' Dorian asked, moving with him. 'You came to see me to just, what? Torture me?’' 

As Bull reached the door, Dorian slammed a hand against it.

'Thinking you have control is the illusion,' Dorian growled. 'Trying to put rules on everything to make it all nice and neat is absurd, impossible!' The mage turned on Bull, pushed him back, hands flat on his chest. 'And what's this "all that's held me together" bullshit? There's a damn sight more keeping you grounded than fucking rules!'   

Bull didn't move. Dorian's fingers curled, digging into his flesh.   

'Kaffas... Bull, I will use my watchword. I swear it.’

‘I don’t believe you.’ 

‘You should. I love you.'

Bull felt like he’d missed a step. He stumbled backwards, breaking contact with the ‘vint.

‘It’s the most inopportune time to say it, I know, but I do,’ Dorian added wryly.

‘Fuck, Dorian,’ Bull whispered.

On some level he’d known, surely? It had been in the man’s touch, in his eyes, in his smile, in his words last night… and yet it was so different to hear it said. A warmth bloomed in him that he couldn’t stop. The wanting rose like a tide, never gone, just wilfully ignored.

The room was suddenly too small.

‘I can’t do this,’ was all he could say.

Dorian bowed his head, screwed his eyes closed and stepped aside.

Bull put one foot in front of the other and somehow managed to leave. As he closed the door behind him he heard Dorian cry out in frustration. He stood paralysed, like he had on the Storm Coast watching Venatori advance on the Chargers. But now he didn’t have the Inquisitor ordering him to blow a fucking horn. Instead, he punched the stone wall so hard he heard a knuckle pop. As he made his way to the infirmary he heard Krem’s voice in his head.

'You big idiot.'

 


	16. Dorian's Lament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian's heartfelt ramblings and Bull reflects on the 'vint's declaration of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little glimpse into Dorian's world, with a side order of Bull.

Dorian played the last night over and over in his head.

_Bull’s weight pressing against him, hot breath on his neck... the sudden sharp bite of teeth. Those powerful warrior hands clawing his back. The pain melting into warmth..._

It was only when he awoke the next morning that he felt true discomfort, skin bruised and tender and stuck to the Maker-damned sheets. This would never have happened if he’d returned to his room like he used to.

Dorian never expected to use his watchword and didn’t really care for it. He’d only encountered a handful of scenarios - outside his liaison with Bull - which  _truly_ warranted it. All but one of those lovers had stopped and that particular man received a lightning shock so vicious he was impotent for months (from the accounts).

The Iron Bull was not like that, of course. He took wonderful care of Dorian and in turn, Dorian loved it when the measured former Ben-Hassrath let go and allowed some of his primal strength to take over.

But Dorian couldn’t deny the combination of being filthy-minded, sex-starved and wanting to impress the handsome beast probably inspired him to go too far at times. He didn’t care much for discomfort but he had a high pain threshold and, surprisingly, relished having it testing by a strapping great Qunari. Kaffas. _Tal-Vashoth._

That was part of the problem. The Qun was dogged in its insistence that all fired members would transform into frothing, rabid creatures. And, naturally, Bull was brought up to believe it.

_“You allowed me to do something I’ve feared bone-fucking-deep since I was expelled from the Qun.”_

The way Bull had looked at Dorian: barely contained anger and hurt and worst of fucking-Maker-damned all… _disappointment_.

No matter what scathing remarks Dorian threw his way in the past, Bull didn’t flinch. Then they started this… whatever it is... and broke down Bull’s walls, gaining access to what was behind them: passion, raw and rough, yes, but also vulnerability, tenderness, almost unbearable gentleness. Dorian found that harder to deal with than any rough treatment. It was daunting and the mage simply didn’t feel qualified to handle it.

And that look of disappointment crushed Dorian as sure as if Bull had taken a mallet and swung it at his chest.

Because, _of course_ , Dorian was utterly in love with The Iron Bull.

Foolish and ridiculous as it sounded in his own head, there it was. And until a few days ago, there had been signs Bull might feel the same way. Dorian’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when Cole exposed the warrior’s thoughts at the Emerald Graves. Rude, yes, but oh so gratifying.

Then Bull asked Dorian to top and he'd been so nervous he nearly called it all off, feigning tricky logistics or a pulled back muscle. But… the trust it required made Dorian want to step up, show Bull what he could do, not just what he could take.

It was awkward and terrifying… and utterly wonderful.

Dorian knew then. He suspected it ages ago, possibly since the earliest weeks, embarrassingly, but being buried in Bull, seeing his face in rapture because of him... oh he _knew_. And when Bull asked Dorian to speak during- well, the mage very nearly blurted it out. The fact that he lost control and set the tent on fire was a disgraceful testament to his affections.

And Dorian had taken a huge shit all over it.  

The mage wanted to return to Bull’s room dozens of times and explain, to make it right again. But what would he say? _I_ _wanted to impress you, and conquer you, and have you conquer me… I wanted you to hurt me and I didn’t fucking care and I love you, I love you, I love you!_

Dorian wrung his hands, paced his room, messed his hair up so it looked ridiculous. Should he go and make a spectacle of himself? Should he lie low and wait? What about drinking himself into oblivion? Every time Dorian resolved to go to Bull, he heard those words again, saw the disappointment on that silly, wonderful face and his stomach curled in on itself and his legs became weak things. Drinking was far easier.

 

***

 

Then Bull came to him - and Dorian told him he loved him, but not before he'd ruined it for good. 

 

***

  
The Iron Bull sat in the infirmary, with a magical healer frowning at his fingers. He was grateful for the intense throbbing in his hand. Minutes ago he’d been devastated and overjoyed during the same conversation. Better a pain he understood than that.

‘You have two broken knuckles, Ser Bull,’ the young female told him. ‘I can ensure they heal right but you’ll need to keep them still for two days.’

‘Sure, thanks. Hey, don’t give me anything for the pain,’ he ordered. The healer raised an eyebrow but complied.

_‘I love you.’_

Bull recalled Dorian’s bright eyes and the way his mage fingers curled into his chest. He now watched slimmer female digits deploying their craft, knitting things back together.

Magic was, despite everything he’d experienced, such a beautiful thing. Perhaps his current respect was born from his love for Dorian, but he’d always thought it was impressive - even if it scared the shit out of him.

_‘It was only a handful of times….  you always stopped before it got too much.’_

Bull winced as the mage attached a brace across his fingers.

‘Apologies, messere, but you said-’

‘It’s fine,’ Bull grunted.

The warrior found himself digging into a wound that had gone soul-deep. When had he been inside Dorian, doing something the ‘vint didn’t like? When did he cause him pain?

‘Vashedan,’ he groaned out loud, despite himself.

The healer frowned.

‘There, you can go about your business now,’ she said, clearly proud of her handiwork, if a little confused by her patient.

 

***

 

It was late afternoon by the time Bull returned to the tavern. He was weary from the day and severely regretted not having a project to distract him. He eyed Annabelle across the bar, all curves and curls, but something in him shrivelled at the idea of fucking someone else. That was new.

_‘I love you.’_

Damn you, Dorian Pavus.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While there are lots of versions of Dorian knocking about (and all are valid - this is fan fiction after all), I'm tired of seeing the version which has been broken and abused by a long line of shitty lovers in the past. So, yes, mine is a little damaged and makes stupid mistakes, but he's still BAMF-zapping-nasty-lovers-with-shock-spell-Dorian, hence this insight :) Thanks for following and I hope I did this version of Dorian justice x


	17. Finding My Way Back to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes and Bull's reflections are increasingly forgiving.

Bull packed away the confusion and heartache. The last thing he wanted was for people to see the cracks. They tolerated the huge Qunari because he enjoyed a joke, was good for a tumble and tended to save his strength for those who deserved an ass-kicking. If he started brooding all over Skyhold the same folk might get nervous.

It’d barely been a week since their return amid tales of a passion that enflamed a tent. Now... Bull brushed off enquiries with a _mind your own business_. What he didn’t do was end the talk decisively by saying it was over between them. It’d be easy, the rumour mill being as efficient as anywhere close-knit, but Bull was still turning it all over in his mind. The ‘vint loved him, yeah, but that'd been mixed up with other crap.

After several ‘vint-less days, however, Bull felt that ‘other crap’ was lessening in importance. It may have only been a handful of nights but each felt like a week. What with Krem’s words still echoing in his head and his own intimate knowledge, Bull had reflected more calmly on the matter. Yeah, he’d trusted Dorian to use his watchword but Bull had to admit he was far more angry with himself for not picking up the signs. His authenticity seemingly came with less control and that made him feel unsafe. Krem seemed to think that was the mark of being in love, but it didn’t lessen the guilt.

Despite what had happened, or perhaps because of it, Bull wanted to check in on the ‘vint, see how he was doing. It felt weird being away from him this long, even if he had good reason. So around lunchtime Bull stopped by Dorian’s nook, then his room and when neither was successful, he dragged his heels to the great hall for some comfort eating.

And there was Dorian  _at last_  standing among a small group of dignitaries. The 'vint was dressed in a dark red and gold tunic, thigh-high black boots hugging his shapely legs. The man looked good enough to eat and Bull felt the heat of desire curl in his belly. That damn wanting had seemingly taken permanent residence under his skin, ready to flare up at any moment.

One of the party gasped at the sight of the huge Qunari. Dorian turned and Bull witnessed a flicker of pain before he plastered on a winning smile. Nonetheless, when Dorian called, ‘Ah yes, our resident Tal Vashoth!’ He did so brightly, gesturing for the warrior to approach. It made Bull's heart heavy but he strode over casually and nodded at the group, now craning their necks upwards.   

‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is The Iron Bull, Captain of the Bull’s Chargers.’

Two were Orlesian, a mother and daughter (the gasper). Then there was a handsome Antivan who knew Josephine’s family and a Fereldan lord. Bull took in the basics but found himself more absorbed by Dorian’s rich timbre. Vashedan, but he missed him. 

‘Nice to meet you,’ Bull said, pulling himself together once the round of introductions was over.     

‘Won’t you join us for dinner, Monsieur Bull?’ the daughter asked.

Bull was about to make an excuse when the mother insisted.

Dorian laughed. ‘Seems you have little choice.’

‘Seems so,’ Bull replied with a grin. He certainly didn’t want to ruffle the feathers Dorian was doing so well to keep smooth.

The young Orlesian, Colette, insisted on sitting beside Bull, while the Antivan (Alonzo) cosied up to Dorian on the opposite side of the table. They were both full of questions about the Qunari and Tevinter. After a few drinks, Colette and Alonzo got a little handsy with their new friends. The former Ben-Hassrath was thankful for the training that made it look like he didn't want to punch the Antivan into the wall. 

"Are you in a special relationship with someone, Monsieur Bull?" Collette purred. Dorian was speaking to a serving girl, asking for more bread rolls, so Bull shook his head in the hope of avoiding awkward questions. 

‘Well,’ she continued. ‘If no one’s caught your eye here at Skyhold, might you consider a love match?’ The woman rubbed her thumb over his skin.

‘Nah,’ Bull said dismissively, trying to give her the brush off. Diplomacy was getting irritating. ‘Qunari don’t do love.’ 

Of course, the noisy table had fallen into a lull the moment the words came out of his mouth. Bull felt his gut twist.

‘I thought you were Tal-Vashoth now, Monsieur?’ she persisted.

Bull scratched his head, knew he was now being watched.

‘You got me there, ma’am,’ he said, reaching for his drink.

_Fuckfuckfuck._

It was like waiting to pull out a thorn. Dorian excused himself shortly after. Bull watched as he walked, with increasing pace, towards the exit. The warrior quickly drained his cup and waved over the - mercifully - newly arrived Varric and the Inquisitor.

‘Let me introduce you to two legends in the making: Varric Tethras and, of course, the Inquisitor, Zephram Adaar.’ More gasping from the Orlesian. As the new victims came to greet the guests, Bull swiftly followed in the ‘vint’s footsteps.

‘Hey, Dorian,’ Bull called, jogging down the stairs from the great hall. The mage was about to enter the tavern. Bull took in the tense line of his shoulders and saw the slow rise of his back as he inhaled. 

‘Bull,’ he said, without turning.

‘Ah… hey,’ Bull fumbled. _I didn’t mean it, Dorian. Shit, I didn’t mean it._  

Dorian turned then, gave him a blank look. His walls were up and Bull found himself wishing they were in a private place.

‘You OK?’

‘Well... if you leave aside the fact-.’ Dorian stopped himself, inhaled again. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Dorian... I’m sorry.’ This wasn't the time to negotiate anything and Bull still didn't know what he wanted.

‘So am I,’ Dorian replied, voice just above a whisper. The heartache in his eyes hurt Bull to meet them. Dorian suddenly straightened. ‘Is that all?’

Bull nodded and stood dumbly as his kadan disappeared into the tavern. The din of the crowd rose before the closing door muffled it once again. As the warrior turned to walk, who knows where, Alonzo practically barrelled into him presumably on his way to accost the ‘vint. Bull resisted the urge to grab him, reminding himself that it was no longer any of his business.

 

***

 

It was dark when Bull found his way back to the tavern. He’d returned to the great hall to save the Inquisitor from Colette and ended up advising Leliana on Qunari poisons. It had provided a much-needed distraction and had the benefit of giving Dorian ample time to drink in peace. Bull realised at some point during those hours that he no longer needed space to think.   

As the warrior approached the ‘Rest, he noticed an amorous couple leaning against a wall. One of the men was pressing himself against the other, practically smothering his lover. The other was possibly pushing back. In the darkness, Bull couldn’t make out whether the touch was welcome. As he hastened his step, he recognised Alonzo’s voice.

‘Oh come on, don’t play coy with me, you want this as much as I do.’

The sleazy tone made Bull uneasy and he clenched his fists on instinct. Then he noticed the thigh-high boots.

‘No, I assure you I do not.’

_Dorian._

Bull’s stomach lurched as he broke into a run.

Alonzo’s voice, angry now. ‘Should’ve thought of that before you let me-’

There was a flash of lightning and Alonzo juddered before falling backwards into a bush.

Dorian simply straightened his clothes and smoothed his moustache.

‘You OK?’ Bull asked, a little breathless. His heart hammered in his chest and he was revisiting his earlier feelings about punching the Antivan into the nearest wall.

‘Ah yes,’ Dorian replied, surprised. ‘Alonzo here was getting a lesson in consent.’

The man was flailing in the bushes, spluttering.

‘How dare you! The Inquisitor will hear-’

Bull hauled the asshole to his feet by the front of his tunic.

‘Yeah he’ll hear all about it,’ he growled. ‘I’ll take you to him right now.’

He glanced at Dorian, who nodded his agreement, and then dragged the man towards the castle. Bull wanted to put as much distance between the ‘vint and this rapey shit as possible within the confines of Skyhold and if the man banged his head, legs, arms or anything else on the way, then so be it.

 

***

 

The Inquisitor threw the Antivan in the cells for the night to sober up. He’d face the team tomorrow. The Bull was grateful Adaar’s sense of justice was greater than his concern for diplomacy. Of course, Bull might have squeezed the life out of the man if it was left to him.

Feeling twitchy and restless, Bull left the dungeon determined to find the ‘vint. He didn't have to go far. The man was leaning, arms crossed, against a post outside.

‘Is he still breathing?’ Dorian asked, a smile quirking the side of his mouth.

‘Not my choice, but yeah,’ Bull replied, gruffly. ‘The asshole’s in a cell, bawling about what a prick-tease you were.’

Dorian rolled his eyes. ‘Isn’t it funny that some people think consent only happens at the beginning?’

‘S’why I use watchwords,’ Bull said without thinking. ‘I mean-’

Dorian shook his head. ‘And you're right.’

Bull hummed. ‘So, you’re really OK?’ 

‘Yes,’ Dorian replied softly. ‘Now do you see what happens when I _really_ don’t want someone to touch me?’ He’d arched a challenging eyebrow as he said it, but Bull could tell the comment was really a plea. He could argue. Or…

‘Sure, I see that. You’re a damn powerful bas Saarebas, no question.’

The ‘vint’s relief brightened his eyes in the torchlight. He untucked a hand from under his armpit and fiddled with his opposite elbow, evidently a little anxious. Bull decided this was as good a place as any.

‘The thing is, Dorian, I can read people pretty well but I’m not infallible. I’m happy to let others think I have near-mystical powers of observation. And plenty leave themselves open to interpretation, willingly or not. But I wasn’t trained too hard on what happens if someone gets under my skin. And if I had been, I certainly wouldn’t have got any practice - until you.’

Dorian stared intently somewhere near his feet.

‘Anyway… what I mean to say is that while I’m disappointed you didn’t use your watchword, I share the blame. Neither of us is a relationship guru here. And we’ve both got our shit to deal with.’

Dorian looked up but it clearly pained him to meet Bull’s eye.

‘Look, Bull, I won't be able to bear it if you do a big apology speech. You’ve made it obvious Qunari don’t reciprocate-’

‘I’m Tal Vashoth,’ Bull interrupted, closing the space between them until he was half a pace away. ‘And I love you too.’

Dorian's beautiful eyes widened.

‘You do?’ he asked.

‘Fuck yes, ‘vint, I'm ass over horns in love with you.’

Dorian barked a laugh. ‘That's all very wonderful but do you... can you trust me again?’ 

Bull huffed. Forgiving Dorian wasn't necessary. Truth was he'd always felt he could trust his kadan.

‘Yeah,’ he breathed. ‘We just need to go easy, take it slow for a while, OK?’

Dorian nodded emphatically before throwing himself into Bull’s waiting arms. Bull held him tight, bending so he could bury his nose into the 'vint's silky hair and breathe him in.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're coming to an end now folks, one more to go - smut next! Thanks for being such amazing readers. This will probably be the last you'll hear from me in a while as I have a few other things to write :) I do love writing (and reading) FF though <3


	18. The Business of Loving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Iron Bull and Dorian Pavus have somehow made it back to each other, now what? Sex of course!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit, sorry, as Bull might say. It's been months but I've often thought about you and this unfinished story throughout the haze of child-rearing and sleep-deprivation. Here's the final smutty chapter to my little love story.

The Bull cupped Dorian's face and gently traced his thumbs across those perfect cheekbones. Dorian's grey eyes searched the warrior's singular blue one. 

Bull managed a rough, “Damn… I’ve missed you.” 

“Me too,” Dorian murmured, reaching for Bull's shoulders. “Let's go somewhere private-”

Bull hoisted Dorian up into a bridal carry. It said a lot that the man didn’t protest his methods.

 

***

 

Moments later, Bull ducked into his room, kicking the door shut. 

“Hey, you wanna-” 

He was going to say "have a drink" - but his mouth was full of ‘vint before he could finish.

“‘M-sorry... I know you said to take it slow,” Dorian breathed against Bull’s lips, hands clutching his neck. “I just want you, amatus. In me, on me, under me, I really don’t care.”

Bull laughed as he lowered Dorian to the floor. “Alright.” 

“My watchword is plaidweave which I _will_ use if you go too slow,” Dorian warned, as he pulled at his clothes.

The anxiety that statement dredged up threatened Bull’s composure.  The mage aborted the movement to tear off his tunic and was back in Bull's space so fast, he barely had a chance to take a breath.

“I promise I will use my watchword, if I need to, Bull." Dorian pressed a gentle palm to the warrior’s chest. "I want you to feel safe.”

Bull nodded. He trusted Dorian and that would have to do. That was love, right? Clearing his throat, he gestured to the bed.

“In that case, take a seat.” 

He turned around to pour them both a drink and when he turned back, Dorian was topless and starting to unbuckle a boot.

Bull chuckled. “Oh, you gotta keep the boots on.”

Dorian’s husky laugh sent a frisson through Bull’s body that landed squarely in his cock. Speed mattered a lot more suddenly and Bull started to pull at his harness, watching as the ‘vint removed the rest of his fancy clothes, shucking the boots off to get rid of his leggings and then making a slow show of pulling them back on. Finally, Dorian flopped back onto the covers and stretched his shapely arms above his head.  

“Shit,” Bull whispered as he took in the naked, booted mage sprawled out before him.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Dorian asked. Trademark sass intact, yet the look of fondness totally undermined it.

Bull reached behind him and grabbed a bottle of oil from the dresser. He threw it on the bed and promptly dropped his pants, pausing to let Dorian enjoy the view, of course, but it handily also helped him gather his thoughts. The Bull felt trepidatious and...  fucking horny. He took a deep, steadying breath and placed a knee on the bed. Slowly, he crawled forward and reached for Dorian's bent knees. Grinning from ear to ear (it seemed), Bull spread them open and slid his hands down Dorian's toned thighs until they curved over the soft leather. Grunting approvingly, Bull lifted the man's legs over his shoulders, pressing a kiss to an inner thigh before licking a trail to his balls. Dorian's warmth and familiar taste grounded him. Emboldened, he laved his tongue slowly all the way around Dorian's semi-hard cock before swallowing the whole of him down. Dorian’s head softly thumped back onto the pillow. 

“Maker, Bull,” Dorian groaned. “It’s not like I don’t appreciate… hmmm… but I _need_ you inside me as soon as convenient.”

Bull gave a deep chuckle around that glorious head. Dorian shuddered, his cock quickly filling until Bull nearly had trouble fitting the length of it in his mouth. He'd happily have sucked the mage off but Bull had had his orders so he pulled his mouth off slowly.

“I hear ya,” he grinned. Truth was, he didn’t care what they did, he just needed to be here right now with this man. He was relieved to note the wanting didn’t make him mindless or desperate. It was just a fundamental truth.

Bull oiled his fingers and pressed one, then two of them into Dorian’s sweet hole, gently, reverently.

“Please Bull.”

“I’ve got you kadan.”

“-hope that’s not “impatient little shit”,” Dorian said tightly.

Bull laughed against Dorian’s thigh, nipping it. “Kadan means my heart,” he confessed, possibly a little too softly for Dorian to hear. 

But the 'Vint launched himself up on his elbows, whether at the meaning or at Bull’s insistently curling fingers, was up for debate.

“I don’t know what’s more shocking. That Qunlat has a term of… nnnhuh…. endearment or that you’ve been using it for fucking weeks.”

“Yeah,” Bull said, straightening to look Dorian in the eye. No more mixed messages, no more Qun fuckery.

“Vishante kaffas, amatus,” Dorian complained, managing to look both exasperated and delighted. “Get in me.”

Bull grinned again. In fact, he couldn’t seem to wipe that damn grin off his face. He slowly removed his fingers and lowered the man's thighs before pouring a little more oil into his palms. Then he grabbed his aching cock and coated it thoroughly, mostly to take the edge off, if that were possible.

Dorian gazed at the Qunari's cock longingly and then dragged his eyes upwards. Bull noticed they were dark and bright all at once. He didn't break eye contact as he nudged against Dorian’s hole, rubbing his cock in the slickness before pushing forward nice and slow. The sweet pressure was reassuring and almost too much. As he advanced further, inch by inch, he rubbed circles into the bare skin at the top of Dorian’s thighs, watching the man breathe, bite his lip, watching Bull in return.

The warrior leaned forward, massive hands planting on either side of Dorian’s head and slid the last few inches until they were flush against each other. Bull released a long drawn-out sigh, at the same time as his lover. They grinned at each other and Bull bowed nearly in half to meet the man's lips. They spent long seconds, tongues probing and tasting, Bull buried deep inside Dorian. A warmth bloomed inside him at the rightness of the moment. Like nothing could shake his foundation now.

Dorian squirmed beneath him so Bull broke their kiss to begin a steady pace. Dorian clasped one of Bull’s wrists, the fingers of the other hand clung to Bull’s waist.

“Touch yourself,” Bull commanded gruffly and felt the hand leave his side and slide down between their bodies. “I’m not gonna last that long.”

“Me neither,” Dorian smiled. “So harder, please, my good man.”

Bull did as he was told, increasing the power and pace of his thrusts to match their increasing need. Although he didn’t have Dorian’s grace, he was thankful that with all his battle-won injuries, his hips could move at all, let alone with the power they still enjoyed. Inevitably, the bed rocked and Dorian was shunted up the mattress but neither cared as they sped to their respective ends. 

"You feel so good, kadan," Bull growled. "I fucking love being inside you." 

All Dorian could manage was an "Uh huh" in agreement.

Dorian came first. Bull drank in the moment, listening to the man cry out, feeling his nails dig into his wrist and his ass clench around his cock. Bull surged forward into the tightening muscle, sliding his free arm under Dorian’s shoulders to pull him up and closer. He managed to thrust only once more before he came in a rush, holding Dorian against his chest.

 

***

 

They'd made love two more times and snoozed in between. The Bull was beginning to feel hungry but he couldn't bear to move the warm mage sprawled across his chest. Soon, the change in Dorian's breathing told him he was waking. Bull ran his fingers gently through his mop of dark hair and felt a soft sigh against his pec. That feeling of rightness had taken up residence in his chest, beside the wanting, and Bull felt at peace.

“So, I love you and you love me,” Dorian said huskily.

“Yeah,” Bull rumbled, playfully gripping a handful of hair. It felt fucking amazing to acknowledge it.

“What happens now?” Dorian asked.

“I suppose we just get on with it.”

“With what?” Dorian asked, lifting his head to look at Bull.

“The business of loving each other? Life? Shit, I don’t know.”

“Maybe it’s best not to analyse it,” Dorian mused.

“Analysis would be tricky. Anyway, I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Indeed… you’re quite right,” Dorian agreed.

“Maybe we can see it as a guide, like the Qun, in how we treat each other,” Bull suggested. Now that wasn’t a bad idea.

“I like that,” Dorian purred, tracing his fingers along Bull’s bristly jaw. “I feel honour-bound to warn you that we will fuck up along the way.”

“Yeah,” Bull grinned, thinking of all the times they’d already stumbled like idiots. “But we’ve got this far so I like our odds, bas Saarebas.”

“Me too, Tal-Vashoth,” Dorian grinned back.

Dorian grasped Bull’s chin and crushed a kiss to his lips. Bull could feel a rogue toe between his thighs, tracing a line upwards.

“Shall we just get on with loving each other then?” Dorian breathed into his mouth.

“Fuck yeah,” Bull laughed, rolling his kadan onto his back. Hunger be damned.

 

*** The End ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed it and thank you so much for your support along the way, it means a lot xxxx


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